


A Breath of Fresh Air

by ju4jen



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-01
Updated: 2013-08-01
Packaged: 2017-12-22 02:52:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 27,065
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/908045
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ju4jen/pseuds/ju4jen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jensen Ackles, singer, songwriter and guitarist, and possibly one of the greatest living rock legends ever, travels to Vancouver for a gig and meets Jared Padalecki, one of the lead actors in Jensen's favourite TV show - Supernatural.  Jared is a breath of fresh air for the jaded, fragile and unhappy Jensen Ackles.  A tale of sex (eventually), no drugs (at least not for the last eighteen months), and rock n' roll.</p><p>Warnings:  Discussion of drug/alcohol abuse, infidelity (all in the past), suicide of a minor character,  terminal illness of a side original character, Matt Bomer not being at all Matt Bomer like (I assume, although I don't really know him at all).</p><p>Jensen is in his mid forties, Jared in his late twenties.</p><p>I don't own these boys at all - just borrowing them for a while to meet my own nefarious ends.  No offence is meant - at all - because I think they are pretty wonderful.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Breath of Fresh Air

Jensen flew into Vancouver on the last wings of dying sunlight, sharp pinpricks of light just beginning to battle through the golden lens as the dark began to rise. He stood in the terminal looking across to the shadowed mountains of the North Shore silhouetted against a sky fading now to purple and took a deep breath, sloughing off his long-haul stiffness and exhaustion. It was a magical light, rich in its tone and fresh in its clarity, and it somehow invigorated him and reminded him that he was far from home. It was a good feeling.

Musing lightly, Jensen tried to remember if he had ever played here before. He supposed he must have done at some stage – perhaps during one of those endless tours that had been lost in the fog of a broken mind … and time. He vaguely recalled tall modern buildings and glittering water but it was a clean memory – no associations, no churning horror in the depths of his stomach, no overwhelming shame. He smiled. And he found himself looking forward to his stay here.

He turned away from the mountains and begun his hike along the long green corridors of the terminal. He ignored the gasps of recognition and the whispers and excited giggles. Jensen Ackles had a reputation and he put on his ‘don’t fucking get close’ face on and everyone obeyed. He didn’t want to get bogged down in being that person – not yet – he just wanted to get out into that deepening blue (now only touched with the slightest hint of gilt), and take his first breath of unsoiled Vancouver air (and wouldn’t the doc have something completely ridiculous to say about his use of that kind of hyperbole because how could he have ever tainted any city’s atmosphere?). But here he could just be who he was now, and not have to deal with what he once was. His feet quickened their steps.

****

“So what if I could get you VIP tickets for the Guitar Hero’s Showcase?” Eric Kripke flung himself down on the sofa in Jared’s trailer as if he had been invited.

Jared peered out of the bathroom door where he was currently removing thick layers of makeup.

“Huh?” he replied.

“The Showcase, Moron. I can get us tickets,” Eric smug grin gloated as he watched Jared’s eyes widen in surprise.

“Man, that’s impossible – all the tickets for that were sold out within seconds. I fucking tried, remember?” Still standing at the door, he reached into the cramp bathroom and grabbed a towel.

“I’ve got a cousin,” Eric stated.

Jared looked at him for a short moment.

“Good for you,” he finally said.

“A cousin who happens to be working as the PA to the director of the show,” Eric had sat up and was now declaiming in triumph. “I can not only get us tickets, but VIP tickets. And I am prepared to share with the star of my show.”

“And who else?” Jared responded unbelievingly.

“Well, OK, Ben, Sera, and Jeremy are coming too… and Phil… he’d kill me if he couldn’t go.”

“I knew there was a reason for this writer’s jolly. It had nothing to do with getting a feel for this season, did it?” Jared dryly added, and he towelled his face. The Vancouver crew had been surprised and a little disturbed when Eric announced a set visit to ‘get the context’. It was the first time the writing team had come ‘en masse’ to the Canadian city. Now Jared knew why.

Eric shrugged but continued grinning.

“VIP tickets. Not quite back stage but up front and exclusive,” Eric was basking in his own brilliance. Jared ignored him as he changed out of Sam’s shirt and into one of his own, but there was a pulse of excitement thrumming under his skin.

“So… you gonna come?” Eric surely knew that it was a done deal, but he was asking anyway. Jared shrugged, playing it cool for a while.

“Of course, you are,” Eric concluded pre-empting the actor. Jared hummed and walked back into the small bedroom at the back of the trailer. He grabbed his jacket.

“Your girl up this weekend?” Eric changed the subject seemingly satisfied with Jared’s non answer and watched the star of his show head back into the main living space.

“My girl, as you call her, wouldn’t appreciate being called ‘my girl’,” Jared was now standing at the door. “But no, Gen is not coming up this weekend – some family party.”

“Shame,” Eric mused as he struggled out of the cushions. “I like Genevieve.”

“I’m not sure that classic rock and guitar wanking is really her kind of thing,” Jared stepped out and down the steps, then waited for Eric to exit the trailer too.

“Shame,” Eric repeated.

Jared nodded but the thoughts running through his head told a contrary tale. This weekend was looking up and he he felt no shame in thanking all the powers that be that his fiancée wasn’t going to be sharing it with him. 

***

Jensen was used to the way the atmosphere in a room changed when he entered it. Usually it would fall silent, then there would be an upsurge in excited noise, an air of expectation, and, even if no-one made a move, he’d feel the pressure of their interest almost as if they were crowding close around him. This time the hall wasn’t full – just a few roadies, and musicians (a couple Jensen recognised) but the affect was the same as he strode into the back of the hall – like a wave, the understanding of his presence spread until he was aware of every eye on him. It disturbed him for a moment, but then he cloaked himself in Jensen Ackles and all the confidence that role gave him, and continued through the hall to the stage.

“Hey. Ackles,” a whisky-soured, smoked out voice called out. Jensen turned and nodded at a tall thin man with long greying hair. “Thought you were too big time for shows like this one.”

Jensen inwardly winced at the implied insult but kept his features pleasant and open.

“Thought you were too old for shows like this one, Willy!” he responded smoothly and received a laugh in return. He nodded to a couple of other familiar faces but kept his distance, aloofness wrapped round him like a protective armour.

“I’m really sorry, Mr. Ackles, but it’ll be a few minutes before we’re ready to sound-check…” a small, hesitant voice beside him suddenly said.  
He turned to look at frightened eyes.

“That’s OK,” he answered reasonably. The short, sandy haired PA nodded gratefully and backed off, looking for all the world as if he had done three rounds with Godzilla.

Christ, am I really that scary? Jensen mused as he threw himself into one of the front row seats to wait on the roadies to finish their work. He evidently was. No-one approached him. 

Catching sight of his guitar, on a stand at the edge of the stage, he gestured to a kid who looked no more than about fifteen and asked him to bring it to his seat. The kid’s hands shook as he held out the black and silver strat. Jensen smiled, gave his thanks, and sank back in his seat. Gently and quietly he began to tune, the comfortable curves and the guitar’s length grounding him. He shut out the background noise, even the tinny boom of rock music over the pa system, and concentrated on the sounds he raised from his fingertips. As the last string stretched to match its brothers his fingers began a gentle dance, picking out an effortless melody. Jensen tucked his consciousness further into himself, and just let himself be - the music, as it always did, becoming more than he was. 

It took a while for him to realise that the hall had fallen silent, and the sandy-haired PA from earlier was now hovering nervously. Feeling faintly embarrassed, he acknowledged the faint but sincere round of applause, and stood, the guitar still held close.

“Are we ready to go?” He asked the PA.

“Uhh…mmm… not quite,” came the surprising answer, and Jensen returned to his seat, carefully placing the guitar against the neighbouring chair. He stared up at the young man, one eyebrow arched in question.

“Uhh… I wonder…?” The PA was had an air of intent despite the anxious stuttering. Jensen waited patiently – an autograph, perhaps – or ‘canyoulistentothistrackiwrote.’

“My cousin… my cousin has this show... he says you’re a fan…” Jensen tried hard not to let both eyebrows hit his hair line at the unexpected turn of the guy’s request.

“He wants to meet you. He’s a big fan and he’s coming tonight. He wanted me to ask you if he could meet you.”

“Which show?” Jensen asked.

“Ummm… Supernatural,” came the answer.

“Really? Supernatural?” Jensen’s interest was now piqued.

“Uhh… yeah. It’s some weird geeky thing.”

“Mmm… I know,” Jensen certainly did know, and the kid’s cousin was right – he was a fan. “Who’s your cousin?”

“E… Eric Kripke…” The PA watched Jensen carefully, a worried frown crossing his face. He obviously wasn’t comfortable with this task but his cousin must have been very persuasive. Jensen allowed himself to smile at the younger man, and saw how his smile changed the PA’s whole demeanor. He wasn’t unaware of how much effect the way he looked had on others, and he carefully toned it down when he saw the widening eyes become shiny, and worshipping.

“Eric Kripke?” he repeated. “That sounds like a lot of fun.”

***

Jensen was bemused at his guest’s stream of words. Kripke had arrived ten minutes earlier and hadn’t stopped speaking. Jensen sat facing away from the giant mirror on the wall of his dressing room and listened without really hearing. Kripke was a typical nerd, still young but hair thinning, small build but wiry, and so far he had touched on classic American rock, Steven King, the special effects in Lord of the Rings, the latest Apple product (in language that Jensen could barely translate) and now he was apologising for not inviting Jensen to have a role on Supernatural.

Jensen made a double take because he was pretty sure he hadn’t mentioned taking a role on Supernatural not ever. Sure, he done a few bits and pieces of acting but principally he was a musician.

“So, you know, it was my own stupid fault – they asked me about cameos and famous stars and I bitched about shows that did that. And then I said that Supernatural was definitely not one of those kinds of show not even if Jensen Ackles showed an interest – and, well, you know, crazy big fan, so that was how strongly I felt on the subject. Of course, I had no idea I was ever going to meet you in person, cos I might have kept my mouth shut otherwise. I mean I totally would love to ask you now – but that bridge is burnt. But, jeez, man, you should totally come and visit the set – everyone would be utterly stoked.

“You did say you were a big fan, right?” Eric didn’t seem to need to draw breath but Jensen took pity on him anyway.

“Yeah,” he answered.

“So you’d like a set visit? It’s not a big deal tomorrow – just Padalecki on set. Bomer is in Hawaii for the week trying to sort out his messed up love life – don’t ask – but it would be great to have you. They play your stuff all the time.” 

“Sounds cool,” Jensen interjected quickly .

“Oh, there’s a crowd of us here tonight too – writers and such. Perhaps you could come and meet them. Jay’s coming too and, you know, he’s a big fan too. They’d love it. Jeez, this is such an honor. I never thought I get to meet you, but I had to take the chance, right? I couldn't believe it when you said Supernatural was one of your favorite programmes – I did a little happy dance,” Eric was finally interrupted by a knock at the door, followed by the tousled hair of his cousin (whose name Jensen still didn’t know).

“Five minutes, Mr. Ackles,” they were told, before some fierce gesticulating that seemed to suggest that it was time for Eric Kripke to leave. To his credit he took the hint immediately.

“Well, thanks for this. A dream come true! But don’t forget to come to the set tomorrow, or visit us in the VIP area. That would be so cool. Thanks. Oh, and have a great show… what am I saying? When do you ever not have a great show?” He stood reaching for Jensen’s hand which he pumped with just the same amount of vigor he had when he first arrived, then was off out of the room like a rocket.

Jensen blinked a couple of times and wondered if he hadn’t just dreamt the visitation before picking up his cell phone. Tom would be getting ready for school, but he suddenly wanted to speak to his son. Maybe, if he was lucky, Jamie would be home too. He felt the need to connect with his family before stepping out on stage. 

There was a short pause, then several rings before he heard his son sunny tones.

“Hi, Dad. How’s Vancouver?”

Jensen thought for a moment. He still had that positive, upbeat feeling still lingering from his arrival at the airport.

“It’s good, Kid Guess who I’ve just met?” He laughed without restraint at the scream down the phone when he told his son of his audience with Eric Kripke, God of the Supernatural world. Yeah, he was feeling fine. 

It was another good day.

***

Jared stared down at the small square piece of a paper in his hand. He had screwed it up a couple of times, but had now just flattened it against the table, and was looking down at it with a perplexed frown.

As he started to write, he was jostled by Edlund who arrived back from the bar with drinks. 

“Sending in a request, Jay?” Edlund asked.

Jared hummed an answer but was too emotional to say anything. He didn’t think his choice was appropriate for this kind of show – not enough guitar, too much vocals – but the temptation to just ask was overwhelming. 

He finished writing and folded the paper in two. Looking up, he realised that Eric was still holding court on his fifteen minutes with Jensen fucking Ackles. Sgriccia and Bee were looking green with jealously, but taking in every word. The others were retelling old concert stories. Everyone had seen Ackles live at some point before, some of them more than once, and there were a lot of tales, tall and otherwise, to weave. Jared kept his own to himself, not trusting himself, because the last time he had seen Jensen Ackles play, Jackson had been with him.

The Supernatural party, all eleven of them, had grabbed a table on the balcony right above the stage. From where he sat, Jared had a bird’s eye view of the increasingly excitable crowd, and knew he would also have an unparalleled and uninterrupted view of the man himself. He was beyond excited himself. Jensen Ackles had been Jackson’s favourite musician, and by default, had provided the soundtrack to Jared’s teenage years. He’d jerked off enough times to pictures then, that his dick would still twitch now at the slightest mention of the man. 

“Any requests?” One of the official volunteers was back at their table. Jared hesitated for a moment then threw his note into the bucket which was being waved in front of him. A couple of the other guys and Sera also added their own slips.

Too late now.

Jared knew that Jensen Ackles often did request shows. He had a massive back catalogue, and a liking for small intimate performance spaces, and so he would let the fans choose what they wanted to hear. But he was surprised that this show would be a request show too. The Guitar Legend Showcase gigs were really self-congratulatory affairs that turned into shows of one-man-up-ship as each performer tried to outwank the previous one. Somehow, Jared didn’t think Jensen would be interested in that kind of competition – he was acknowledged as the best guitarist in the world by almost everyone but the most bitter, but it was his song writing, and the strength of his voice that captured people’s hearts. Jared also wondered what this particular crowd would choose. The predominance of long hair, denim and leather, suggested that most of the songs requested would come from early albums. 

Jared leant over the balcony gazing down at the scene. His stomach was flipping with nerves, and he regretted his request choice. He should have chosen something fun, something party-like. Hopefully, Jensen wouldn’t even see it, or would just cast it aside.

***

Jensen Ackles warmed his voice with a rendition of McCartney’s ‘Live and Let Die’. Then he began to rifle through the bucket of small paper slips. He grimaced at several of them, and was intrigued by others. There were a lot of choices from nearly twenty years ago – the old progressive rock stuff which was largely instrumental – and he suddenly wanted to play them again even though he hadn’t even thought about them for so long.

Then one slip caught his attention.

You really don’t know me  
For Jackson

It was an odd choice – an acoustic song written at one of his lowest times. He didn’t know who Jackson was but he sensed a story behind it. The J had been started and then the writer had paused, as if he barely had the strength to write out the whole name. The ‘For Jackson’ seemed to have been penned with less confidence that the title of his song.  
It didn’t really fit with his plans. He wanted to just rock out and have some fun. Perhaps showcase some of those older tracks, really indulge in showing off those guitar skills.  
He dropped the slip back into the bucket.

***

Jared found it hard to concentrate on the music.

From the moment Ackles had sauntered onto the stage, with his trademark black and silver strat, Jared had just been mesmerised. There were no outrageous stage costumes, the make-up was limited to simple black eyeliner, the hair tousled in that just got out of bed way. Simple Jeans and a black button down shirt, sleeves rolled up, heavy black boots. Stripped of all his glamour, Jensen looked… well, Jensen looked fragile, his eyes dark in the stage lights (although Jared knew they were green), more human and less rock god. And breathtakingly beautiful. All these years, Jared marvelled, all this time and I never really appreciated how beautiful he is. Sexy, yeah, I got that but Jeez, Jackson, I think I get why you crushed on him so hard.

He was faintly aware that Jensen was playing a retrospective set – stuff from years ago, when the music world had first gotten excited about this crazy, beautiful boy who could play and sing both like the devil and one of the angels. But his attention could only wander between Jensen’s long, elegant fingers flying between the frets, the shine of sweat where his shirt flared open onto his chest, the dark smudge of his long lashes against his cheek, his eyes closed as he coaxed his magical music from his guitar.

“Are you alright?” Sera nudged Jared, and yelled in his ear. He smiled at her faintly and nodded.

“You look kind of spaced out there, Jay,” she continued. He shrugged and turned back to Jensen, but the spell was broken. He was aware of the bodies of his friends and work mates pressing up against him against the balcony barrier, the sheer noise of music and crowd combined, how hot he felt, and that Jensen had finished his set. Jared whooped and applauded with the others when it appeared Jensen had waved to them.

Eric nearly fell over the balcony, he was so excited.

And then Jensen left the stage, to whistles, and yells, and begging and pleading. No-one wanted to go home, no0one wanted it to end. For a moment Jared felt upset with himself – he had seemingly missed something marvellous by the way Ben and Guy were grinning at each other and mouthing “Holy shit!” at each other. He wished he could remember what it was that Jensen had played.

And then the noise dropped suddenly. The lights went down and one spotlight hit the stage dead centre. Someone had place a bar stool, its glossy wood and leather shining dully in the bright light. Jensen walked on from backstage carrying an acoustic, and the hall fell even more silent, watching him as he settled onto the stall, fiddled with the mike and then with his tuning.

“This is for Jackson,” he said and Jared’s world fell apart around him.

I am the one everyone sees  
And hears  
I am the one everyone loves   
And hates  
I am the one everyone thinks   
And speaks  
But you really don’t know me

Jared couldn’t look at Jensen anymore. He only heard the words, the gentle picking of the guitar, the rich treacle voice and he could only see Jackson, feet tucked under him, sitting on the end of the ratty sofa in Jared’s bedroom, mouthing the words silently.

“This is the most amazing, fucking song in the world, Jayman,” Jackson had exclaimed when the song had finished. “The man’s a fucking genius.” Jared hadn’t known how to respond – at the time he thought it was the saddest fucking song he had ever heard, but he knew that Jackson wouldn’t understand. He still thought it was the saddest fucking song in the world, although for different reasons. He sniffed and realised that he was crying. Wiping his hands across his face, he glanced back down to the stage to find Jensen staring back at him. His stomach plummeted, his breath took flight, the last echoes of the last notes faded and died, and the lights went out.

***

Jensen accepted the praise as graciously as he could. He smiled and thanked people, and worked the crowd in his usual consummate and charming way. But there was an itch at the back of his brain, an old sad song that made him remember things he’d been trying to forget here in this young, vibrant city, and a heart-broken face.

Jared Padalecki.

The lights were just bright enough, the VIP balcony just near enough, for Jensen to recognise the star of Supernatural leaning over the rails a few feet from Kripke. Well. Kripke had told him that Jared Padalecki was going to be here so he shouldn’t be surprised but seeing him with tears coursing down his cheeks was quite unexpected.

He politely disengaged himself from a conversation with the guitarist and bassist of a local band, to make a sweep of the room. He rolled his eyes when he overheard the gentle disbelief of “He’s really nice!” but forgot the veiled insult when he spotted the figure of a tall, dark haired man. Pulling down his protective “don’t fucking touch me” walls he stalked towards Jared Padalecki.

“Jensen!” Eric Kripke was suddenly in front of him, and now introducing him to an entourage of people. He shook every hand, complimented several on episodes he knew they had written or directed, smiled in a friendly way at their astonishment. I can’t believe it, you really are a fan… and then had his hand enveloped into a larger one, and he looked up.

Jared Padalecki. 

Several inches taller than Jensen himself, hair falling to his shoulders in gentle waves, smile dimple wide, eyes shifting from forest to ocean and back again, no sign of previous tears.

“Yeah, like I said, no Bomer – got a bit of lady trouble, if you know what I mean – he’s in Hawaii. Which is why Jay’ll be filming by himself tomorrow – but you’d be very welcome.” 

Eric fell silent and Jensen realised he was supposed to say something.

“Sure. That’ll be cool.” He looked up at Jared, faintly amused. 

“Anyway, it was a brilliant show, wasn’t it guys? It’s been years since I heard anything off the Last Chance album – totally inspiring – or off Merry-go-round and around – when was that? ’94 or 5? I think people will be talking about this show for a long while.”

Jensen realised that his hand was still clasped in Jared’s and, embarrassed, pulled it away. He allowed himself to be pulled over by Eric as the show runner continued talking, now inviting Jensen down to the Black Rose. Kripke had a friend who owned the boat moored at Coal Harbour. He stayed there when he was up in Vancouver and they were planning on continuing the party after the show. Jensen would be very welcome. A little bewildered but also greatly amused, Jensen heard himself agreeing but explaining he had some press to do before he was released, if they were prepared to wait for him. It was an evening of surprises, because Jensen didn’t do that – he didn’t just agree to go partying with strangers. That was the old him. 

As he moved away to greet other fans and other performers, he considered backing out, but he caught a glimpse of Jared Padalecki. The tall man gave him a warm smile, then gazed down at his hand, fiddling with a piece of paper. He shot a shocked look back up at Jensen immediately. Jensen decided that perhaps it would do him good to get out and relax a little, perhaps the party would be OK.

***

Jared Padalecki stared down at the piece of paper. His hand had pulled it out of Jensen Ackles’ hand when he had pulled away after their long handshake.

You don’t really Know Me  
For Jackson 

He looked up and found Jensen’s green eyes across the room. He was sure that Jensen meant him to have his request slip back, but how did he know? They stared at each other for a long while.

Fucking hell, I’m in trouble, Jared thought. 

***

When Jensen finally came back into the Green room, most of the guests had gone. He had been held up by the photographer and a reporter, and had to, very firmly, but as kindly as possible, tell them to fuck off. There was no sight of Eric Kripke and the rest of his posse, and his heart sank with a disappointment.

“They’ve gone on,” a voice came from behind him. “I don’t think they really thought you were serious about coming.”

Jensen turned and found Jared Padalecki standing very close.

“I don’t make empty promises,” Jensen responded. Then, “You waited.”

“Didn’t want you to feel stood up!” Jared smiled, white teeth gleaming, dimples laughing. Jensen felt a little lost in it all.

“That’s cool, dude,” Jensen laughed. “Shall we go?”

“It’s a bit of trek. Want a cab?” 

“How far?”

“Forty minutes or so,” Jared answered.

“I can walk. Do we pass a liquor store? Don’t want to arrive empty handed,” Jensen asked, but felt his stomach turn over when a shadow crossed Jared’s face. He could make an educated guess as to what Jared might be thinking but he wasn’t going to explain himself, so he didn’t. He allowed Jared to lead him out through stage door onto the darkened streets.

Vancouver was still quite lively despite late hour. The tall glass buildings of downtown, reflected back the street lights and traffic. The backstage door led out into an alley and the alley led down onto Granville Street. The two men started to walk up the hill towards the heart of the city. The harbour lay on the far side, over the crown of the hill and then down towards the river. They ambled in silence for a while, although it was a comfortable silence until Jensen couldn’t resist.

“Who’s Jackson?”

Jared stopped abruptly.

Jensen whirled round to see a myriad of emotions, none of them happy, crossing Jared’s face.

“Sorry,” Jensen responded rapidly. “It’s none of my business.”

Jared shrugged and started walking again. Jensen, after a moment, followed him.

“I thought I would never get to love this city,” Jared began, changing the subject . “So much rain, not enough sun. But after four years…”

“It’s a young city. It feels young,” Jensen answered.

“Hmmm… yeah, maybe that explains it. It’s full of life, so much going on…”

“It’s clean... fresh,” Jensen smiled up Jared. “I like that.”

“Well, it’s easy,” Jared agreed. “Easy to leave the bullshit of LA behind here.”

Jensen couldn’t help laughing. Jared seemed so young and open, too young and open to be so cynical of Hollywood just yet.

“What bullshit have you seen in LA, Padalecki?”

“Plenty and enough to know that Vancouver is an infinitely better place for someone like me,” Jared replied but seriously.

Jensen’s left eyebrow gave a quizzical lift. 

“What does that mean?” he asked, but Jared pursed his lips, shook his head and stretched out his stride even further. Jensen, though, was only a few inches shorter and kept up, although he sensed it wasn’t something Jared was used to. Jared was now wearing a bitch face that he recognised from Sam, Jared's character on Supernatural, and Jensen’s stomach churned as he realised he had somehow upset or offended the younger man. Too fucking nosy, Ackles, he thought to himself with regret.

This time the silence was not as comfortable.

Usually, people trod carefully around Jensen, holding back on the awkward, personal questions. It felt strange for Jensen to be on the other side of it. But he was curious and still oddly haunted by Jared’s peaked, pale face intensely staring at Jensen during his encore.

He had walked several metres before he realised that Jared had stopped again. He turned and waited, watching Jared as Jared seemed to have some kind of internal dialogue with himself. Jensen was enthralled by how open, how expressive, this man allowed himself to be. It was an alien concept to him, who built walls high enough and thick enough to stop anyone ever knowing what he was thinking.

“I’m sorry,” Jared eventually said. “Can we start again? I’m being a jerk.”

“OK,” Jensen answered carefully.

“Jackson was my best friend and, probably, your greatest fan,” Jared continued.

Jensen didn’t say anything, but nodded slightly to encourage the younger man.

“He committed suicide when we were nineteen,” Jared continued simply. Jensen was shocked to his core. He had been prepared to hear that Jackson had died or something, but suicide? That was a word that resonated deep in Jensen consciousness. He carefully schooled his face into a neutral expression.

“I’m sorry,” he tried to say evenly, but Jared tipped his head to one side in question, as if he had heard something less trite in Jensen’s response.

“You Really Don’t Know Me was his favourite song,” Jared continued. “He felt some kind of kinship with it - with you - like he wasn’t the only one feeling disconnected.”

Jensen couldn’t trust himself to say anything at this point. Jared stepped forward and closer.

“It’s OK, man. It was a long time ago. It’s just… sometimes… sometimes things remind me. Don’t even know what possessed me to request it… but… man, Jackson would have loved hearing you play it live.” Jensen shivered when Jared reached out and put a hand on his shoulder.

“It’s OK… you don’t need to feel bad,” Jared said generously. “I’m sorry. I was a jerk. There’s no reason for me not to want to talk about him. It’s good to talk about it. I… you… you just caught me unawares, is all.”

In response Jensen simply stared at him. He felt a little unnerved at how well Jared was reading him despite all the walls he had built around himself. Not as deadpan as you think, he thought to himself, but knew that to be a lie. Jared was obviously just a natural at beating down a total stranger’s mental defences.

“Oh, and I’m gay,” Jared announced. “To answer your second question about LA. I find LA difficult because I’m gay and no-one knows.”

Jensen felt his mouth drop open in even greater surprise, but not as surprised as Jared apparently was. The boy looked mortified at his sudden disclosure.

“Dude?” Jensen started, but was interrupted by Jared, who obviously had decided not to rein in his runaway mouth.

“Not even my fiancée knows. So, you know… hence the non-answering, rude behaviour. I’m sorry,” Jared apologised again.

“Dude?” repeated Jensen. “You do know that I am gay too?”

“Well, yeah, of course… everyone knows you’re gay…well, bi,” Jared seemed nonplussed for a moment and then he got it. “I guess I am so careful hiding it from everyone, that I didn’t think… it didn’t occur to me that you wouldn’t give a shit.”

“I wouldn’t say that I don’t give a shit,” Jensen mused. “But, yeah, I’m not going to freak out because you happen to like dick.”

Jared groaned.

“This is so not going how I planned it my head. Can we restart this conversation again? You know, third time golden?”

“Hell, no. If we start again I might never find out you’re a seriously closeted homosexual whose best friend committed suicide when he was a teenager.” Jensen answered vehemently.

“Fuck,” Jared responded but his lips were beginning to smile.

“We’re all fucked up, Jared Padalecki. One way or the other,” Jensen, suddenly, really wanted to see the mile wide smile he’d seen earlier that evening. Really, really wanted to see it.

“After all, I nearly destroyed myself with drugs and alcohol and inappropriate sex. And, as you knew that already (I assume), it’s only fair that you disclose some of the fucked up stuff in your life. Build a fair and balanced foundation for this relationship.” Jensen’s smile was broad but very sincere.

Jared gave him a blinding one back.

“Are we turning this into a competition? Who has the most fucked up life?” Jared grinned.

“Oh man… you think you can beat me on that one?” answered Jensen.

“No. Pretty sure you’d win hands down.”

“Damn right!” declared Jensen, and then stopped “What do you mean, fiancée?”

***

They detoured via a liquor store. Jared watching Jensen anxiously until he saw Jensen pick up a water. Jensen had obviously caught his concern because he mouthed for me as he put it on the counter alongside the Jack and the Jose.

Jared found it very difficult to believe he was walking the streets of night-time Vancouver with THE Jensen Ackles. It was bizarrely easy between them now that Jared had opened up and told Jensen the truth about himself. Jensen didn’t say much but he listened to Jared’s stories, and was happy to add an aside or a comment when appropriate. He kept pace with Jared’s long strides swinging his carrier bag of booze and water and smiled and chuckled.

And Jared Padalecki was walking down Granville Street towards the river with this man and he could tell that Jensen was happy and it made him happy too. 

The massive Convention Center and cruise ship terminal gleamed white in the night lights. Jensen exclaimed at the huge spinning world in the Convention Center Lobby, and then at the way the lights rippled and flickered on the water of the river. They turned to follow the path down the steps and into the park towards the harbor.

“I don’t have any bad memories from here,” Jensen said as they stopped for a while to look at the bobbing sea planes in the terminal at the foot of the convention center. The mountains on the north shore were dark giants looming over the sparkling lights, but the city behind him stretched up elegant glass fingers to the sky, gleaming in the moonlight. “It feels clean because there’s nothing to be ashamed of from here.”

Jared looked down at the older man. From this close he could see a few lines, but Jensen even looked good under the half light of the street lamps.

“Everywhere I go I seem to be chased by not very pleasant memories, and I don’t want to remember because that is not who I am any more. But here? I know I’ve been here before but I can’t remember anything untoward happening – no getting arrested, no wrecking of hotel rooms, no injudicious one night stands. It’s a great feeling.” It was Jensen’s longest speech of the night so far. Jared was so captivated that he couldn’t speak.

“Sorry, “ Jensen muttered. “Don’t know why I’m telling you this. I don’t normally tell anyone anything.” And Jensen didn’t, not ever, not since... well, not for a long time. But he instinctively trusted Jared.

“It’s just one of those sharing, open evenings – the spill-your-guts-to-a-total-stranger night. I’ve done it. Why not you?” Jared smiled and Jensen gently laughed at him. A warmth began to glow at Jared’s center as he watched the light reflected in Jensen’s smiling eyes.

“Not really strangers,” Jensen then said. “I’ve watched you as Sam Winchester for four years.”

“And I had a poster of you on my wall when I was fifteen,” Jared flushed as the words fell out of his mouth rashly, but Jensen didn’t seem at all perturbed.

“Which one?” he asked teasingly.

Jared wasn’t sure that he really wanted to answer that question, but in the spirit of their no-holds-barred conversations so far, he went for it, hoping his face didn’t look as rosy red and flushed as he thought he did.

“Leather pants, guitar, not much else. Eyeliner, shaved chest – pretty sure you were wearing lipstick too. My mother thought you looked obscene. I put it up because Jackson wouldn’t stop whining until I had. I liked your music but I was never quite fan enough for him – not a fan like he was a fan. He tattooed your fucking name across his chest. But, you know, I was fifteen years old, with a picture of you making what I assume was your orgasm face, and showing off lots of flesh...”

“Fucking hell, Jared,” Jensen interjected. “Don’t go on any further… I think I know where you’re heading and, really, too much information, dude.”

Jensen dragged a hand across his face, looking vaguely uncomfortable. Jared didn’t quite know what to do with himself either. He could boldly state that yes, actually, he did beat off to wild fantasies about Jensen inspired by that poster, or he could simply leave it hanging in the air between them. He watched Jensen carefully, concerned that he was offending the older man, but despite the slight air of embarrassment, there was a twinkle in Jensen’s eyes that was encouraging.

“I was young, gay and you looked like… well, you looked like you look… whaddya expect?” Jared stated, waving a hand in Jensen’s general direction.

Jensen laughed then, a full bodied, rich, throwing his head back type of laugh. Jared swallowed strongly at the sight of Jensen’s long neck.

“I kinda like this ‘telling all’ to a stranger thing we’ve got going here,” Jensen continued to smile.

“That’s because it isn’t you doing all the awkward ‘telling all,’ retorted a red face Jared, still unsure what it was about this particular night and this particular man that made him feel so comfortable that he was prepared to admit to his most embarrassing stories. His skin was crackling with electricity, and his heart beating fast. Jensen was nothing like he was expecting – he was softer and gentler than Jared had imagined the legendary Jensen Ackles could possibly have ever been.

“True enough,” Jensen replied and turned to look out over the water again. The two of them stood watching the wind rippling across the river for a few companiable, quiet moments. Then Jensen spoke up.

“I had this thing for Roger Taylor, you know, the drummer from Queen. Had thousands of pictures of him plastered to my bedroom wall. My dad walked in one day, when I was… you know… jerking off… it would have been alright except that he walked in just as I was coming and gasping out “Oh, God, yes, Roger!” Not a good way to find out your son might not be as straight as you hoped he would be.”

Jensen eyes were dancing with amusement, so Jared chuckled at the story.

“We all square now?” Jensen added.

Jared chuckled even harder.

“Just about.”

***

The party was in full swing when they finally arrived, and was spilling out onto the deck and the marina. Music was blaring from somewhere deep in the bowels of the boat, and there was a lot of raucous laughter. Somewhere along the way, a number of women had been found, their higher tones mixing in with the very drunk male voices. Suddenly unsure, Jensen grabbed Jared’s arm. Jared turned and must have done that fucking marvellous mind reading trick he could do (had to because Jensen was pretty sure he had pulled on his ‘I’m a fucking rock star and nothing bothers me’ face, and Jared still seemed to know what was bothering him). 

“It’s all right,” Jared actually said in a low voice. “We don’t have to – pretty sure they aren’t expecting you, or me, at this point.”

Jensen fought a desperate war in his head between his natural inclination to hide away and his sense of duty – he’d said he would attend and, strangely, he didn’t want this group of enthusiastic but warmly, welcoming people to think he was just another one of those snotty celebrities. Or perhaps he didn’t want to Jared to think he was a prima donna.   
Now there was a thought that disturbed him on all levels – how much he wanted to impress Jared Padalecki.

He shrugged off his nerves, and grinned at Jared. And finally he marched confidently down the gang plank onto the marina and towards the boat.

His arrival caused a sensation. Some very drunk writers and directors yelled out their surprised welcomes, and thumped him uncomfortably on his back, crowding into his personal space claustrophobically. Then there were screams as the various women recognised him. Sera Gamble stood back, rolling her eyes, and glanced over to Jared who was still standing at the entrance to the cabin. Jensen noticed the exchange of looks and inwardly agreed with them.

But he smiled, and listened, and laughed, and sipped his water while everyone fussed and fought for his attention. Eric threw his arms around him and spent the rest of the time pulling at his neck, whilst he told Jensen slurred stories. The women pouted, and thrust their breasts at him, hands pawing at his shirt, mouths coy, eyes peering up through flirty lashes.

In vain, of course. Jensen had eyes for no-one but Jared. Center of attention though he was, Jensen was acutely aware of the quiet figure of Jared as the young man slowly circled around the group, filling his time with quiet conversations, gentle jokes, and loud explosions of that rich laugh. Jensen watched how the faces of Jared’s colleagues lit up when the tall man came up to talk to them. He saw the warmth in their eyes, and the matching kindness and friendliness in Jared’s. It had been a long time since he had met someone so open and natural, particularly in response to his presence, and he couldn’t help but respond positively to it. Most times, people either wanted something from him – sex, money, fame – or were overcome with nervousness. Jared hadn’t been like that. From the very first instance, Jensen had felt comfortable with the younger man – comfortable, and intrigued.

Frequently, Jared would raise his eyes and catch Jensen gazing back at him. He would smile shyly for an instance and return his attention to whoever he was talking, but Jensen continued to watch, fascinated despite himself, only fractionally aware of the chatter around him.

***

Amused, Jared had watched Jensen become swamped with his eager, but already drunk, colleagues and a group of women Jared had never before seen in his life. Jensen seemed good humored and gracious, and infinitely patient and confident and he wondered how much was an act and how much was the real Jensen.

Jared remembered the feel of Jensen’s fingers gripping his arm when they had realised the party was significantly more than Kripke’s promised ‘just a few drinks with mates’ and understood that this sort of event must be difficult for Jensen – not least because of the amount of alcohol being splashed around. At one point in the evening, Jared caught Jensen’s eyes tracking a bottle of whisky as it was passed around the cabin. And noticed that Jensen clutched the bottle of water he had been sipping from just that little bit tighter. Jared’s respect for the rock star grew exponentially as he recognised how Jensen fought against his nerves, his discomfort, until all Jared heard from the other guests were glowing testimonials – “He’s so nice – so down to earth – not at all as we expected”. Very impressive, very sweet… and, not forgetting, as hot as hell too.

Jared’s thoughts were interrupted by a cry. Followed by shouts for help and curses.

Excusing himself quickly, he turned and headed out of the cabin to the stern of the boat. Three people - nobody he knew- were hanging over the back end of the boat making distressed noises. One glance over the side, and Jared could see that a fellow guest had fallen overboard, and was struggling to keep her head above the water whilst the other three were reaching down trying to grab her. Jared was already stripping off his jacket and kicking off his shoes when her head disappeared completely into the black water. 

He couldn’t find her at first. After the shock of the icy water hit him, he had dived under the water but despite it being clear, the dark shadows of boats and the glare of the lights above, made it all but impossible for him to see underwater. Coming to the surface to replace his lost air, he took a look around and saw a row of white, scared faces staring over the stern at him. Jensen had already grabbed a buoyancy aid and was sitting half over the side and pointing a few metres to Jared’s left.

Jared took a deep breath, and dived back down, heading in the direction Jensen had indicated. Sure enough he brushed past the body of the girl. But it was a struggle to bring her back to the surface. His chest beginning to hurt through lack of oxygen himself, he got tangled in her long hair, and then in her long skirts. He thrashed for a while, but eventually surfaced, dragging the girl with him. Strong arms pulled her up and away from him, then others reached to help him out. As he fell onto the deck of Kripke’s boat, he realised that a crowd was now circling the unconscious girl.

Jensen, probably the only other sober person on the boat, was yelling at everyone to give him space. Gasping with breath, Jared watched as Jensen calmly bent his ears close to the unconscious girl’s mouth, then tipped her head back. Jensen’s mouth was a grim, thin line as he knelt up over her and began chest compressions.

Shit.

“Call an ambulance!” Jared said roughly, as he realised that the other party guests were standing around in shock doing nothing. He got up off the deck and shook the nearest person – Ben, as it happened – and demanded they call an ambulance right this fucking moment. Then he stumbled over to Jensen and the inert girl. Jensen was kneading with regular pushes, as Jared scooted around to the girls head. He counted to thirty and then knocked Jensen’s hands away from the girl’s torso. Jensen, still very calm, nodded in acknowledgement as Jared breathed twice for her, before letting Jensen begin his pumping again. Thirty pushes, two breaths, the two of them kept up their regular rhythm.

It felt like years before the ambulance finally arrived. Jared took over the compressions after a while as he saw Jensen tire, whilst Jensen took over the breathing. The girl didn’t stir, her skin waxy pale and blue even under the orange boat lights. They stopped only when a paramedic cleared them away and jump started her heart with a defibrillator. The relief that washed over Jared as she coughed and spluttered was overwhelming and he dropped his head to the deck. He was exhausted and terrified and shivering violently with the cold and damp.

A firm hand landed on his back – warm, reassuring.

“We need to get you dried out…” Jensen said. Jared looked up into a face that surely must have matched his own – pale, scared. Jensen was also shivering, and his upper body was soaked through. Only then did Jared realise that Jensen was the one that must have pulled the girl out the water and onto the boat.

“We both need to dry out,” Jared responded but they didn’t move until the paramedics had wrapped the girl up in a blanket and stretchered her off the boat. 

The incident effectively finished the party. A couple of the girls were crying, and many of Jared’s colleagues were stunned into silence and confusion, their befuddled minds wrestling with what had happened and with copious amounts of drink they had consumed earlier.

“You both wanna stay on the boat,” Kripke asked eventually. Jared looked at Jensen who shook his head faintly. Tempting though it was to just crash right there, Jared noticed the flash of alarm cross Jensen’s face before he shut down.

“Nah, be better off back at home,” Jared answered briefly. “I’ll drop Jensen back at his Hotel on the way. We’re OK, it’s not that cold.” Jared was warmed by the grateful smile Jensen gave him.

“Jeez, man, you are both such fucking heroes. You saved her life!” Kripke, now that the emergency had passed, was regaining his equanimity. Sensing that Jensen might have reached a limit on his tolerant socialising, Jared frowned.

“Not really, just the only sober guys on board,” he said.

He wrapped an arm around Jensen.

“I’ll see you in the morning, Eric,” he continued, and started to guide Jensen off the boat.

“And you too, Jensen. Don’t forgot you’re coming to set tomorrow. Can’t wait to see what the rest of the crew will think!” Eric had already brushed off the near fatality. Jared still felt it heavy on his soul, and he just knew from Jensen’s silence, that he was also still in shock.

“Let’s get out of here,” Jared whispered to his companion. Jensen only nodded in response. Leaving the boat and the harbour behind, they grabbed a cab, still shivering, and utterly fatigued. 

***

“How far back to your place?” Jensen finally said as the cab drew up to his hotel.

“Not far – 20 minutes or so,” Jared answered. “I have a house in the ‘burbs ‘cos of my dogs.”

“You’re dripping wet with that skanky harbor water,” Jensen voiced his concerns. “You could crash here – I have a suite.” He was staring at Jared intently, a suggestion being hinted at, behind those glittering eyes.

Jared opened his mouth to accept the invitation, but then he closed it sharply. He was reluctant to stay with Jensen, reluctant to stay but also desperate to clamber out of the car and follow wherever Jensen would lead him. He glanced up at the shiny silver tower, trying to decide on the wisest course of action. He smiled at Jensen and then shook his head.

“Thanks,” he answered honestly. “But I think it is better if I go home. Don’t you?”

Jensen looked ruefully back at him. A whole conversation without words was held between them, the air heavy with the promise of how good things might be between them. Jared knew what Jensen was offering – and it wasn’t just a shower and a bed for the night. He knew that Jensen could sense Jared’s own want and desire. But they were both aware of the question that Jared hadn’t been able to answer earlier that evening - the one about his fiancée. And they both knew that Jamie Callard was at home in his and Jensen’s house in England. 

Jensen clicked open the door and stepped out into the night air. He bent down to peer back into the cab.

“Goodnight, Jared,” he stated simply, regret and relief warring in his tone.

Jared gazed back as the cab pulled away, watching as Jensen strode purposefully towards the lobby doors without a backwards glance.

***

The taxi had already disappeared when Jensen did turn round with an aborted attempt of a wave. Too late.

Too late, indeed.

Whatever the outcome of this evening, Jensen Ackles was still in a great big pile of trouble.

He recalled Jared’s smiles and laughter. His refreshing honesty and openness. He remembered the spike of fear as he saw Jared leap over the side of Kripke’s boat. How impressed he was when Jared had struggled to the surface of the harbor water dragging the girl with him. The quiet business-like way he had just helped Jensen perform CPR.   
He had spent so long living behind his protective walls, that the air around him had become musty and stale. He moved from day to day, almost half asleep, desperately trying hard not to slip up. But Jared Padalecki seemed to have blasted through his defences, and brought a real breath of fresh air into his life. He felt alive, more alive than he had felt in years.

Yeah, he was in one great shit pile of trouble.

Five minutes later he collapsed onto the hotel bed. He noticed three voice mail messages from Jamie, and one from his son, but ignored all four. He decided he was too tired to even undress and shower and collapsed into the soft bedding with a groan.

However, exhausted as he was, he couldn’t sleep.

***

By mid morning, Jared was sick of hearing the story about his and Jensen’s heroic actions the night before. He was tired from a lack of sleep – caused by restlessness and an early morning call – with a pending headache. The constant fawning, always distasteful, today just drove him to distraction. After he had found the request slip in his pocket, forgotten in the excitement of the after-party, he had snapped, unwarranted, at Jeannie so the crew fell quiet and started to avoid him. He breathed a sigh of relief and got his head into Sam Winchester circa 2014 – all hard edged and bitter – and allowed his frustrations to work their way out through casual stunt violence and angry scripted words.

So deep did he get into Sam’s mindset, that it was quite a while before he realised that he was being watched by Jensen Ackles. Who, irritatingly, looked as fresh as a daisy, clear eyed, clear skinned, and gorgeous, as he made a small faltering wave towards Jared. Jared acknowledged the greeting but was still tied up with filming, so he tried not to allow Jensen’s presence to distract him from his job. But his hand kept returning to the slip in his pocket, and his mood immediately lifted.

Not that Jensen needed his company. Eric was as close as a limpet and Jared could hear him telling Jensen all about the episode. As a subdued Jeannie reapplied makeup between two takes, he watched as Jensen listened, seemingly fascinated, but couldn’t fail to spot that Jensen’s attention kept wandering towards the star of the show , and that made him feel very strange. Anticipatory. Tense. Hopeful.

“Don’t want to spoil you, but Sam doesn’t really like future Sam, and he certainly doesn’t like what happened to Dean – not that Dean’s in these scenes. Bomer is in Hawaii,” Jared could hear Kripke saying, but he felt Jensen’s eyes were on him, intense and burning.

Jensen eventually managed to escape Eric to spend a little time with many of the crew, asking them questions about the show. Jared was acutely aware of Jensen’s movements around the set on the periphery of his vision, and his performance suffered accordingly . He was very grateful when lunch break was called.

“Come on!” he barrelled up to Jensen the instant he could. “The food’s great here... let’s go grab some and retreat back to the trailer before Eric decides to tell you the entire storyline for the season.”

Jensen grinned back at him, then nervously looked around him for talkative show runner.

“I could make a fortune selling the spoilers,” he answered.

“Hmmm... you’d be cast out of fandom for doing that!” Jared responded lightly. “We have a very rabid fan base, you know.”

“Well, I wouldn’t want that,” Jensen countered easily as they ambled over to the catering tent.

They piled their plates high, Jensen only briefly raising his eyebrows in surprise as he watched Jared pick up a second plate and begin again, then escaped round the back of the studio, carrying their loot carefully against dropping it. 

“Home, sweet home,” Jared declared as they finally threw themselves down on Jared’s couch in his trailer.

“Nice,” Jensen said as he gazed about him.

“I spend more time in here than at home,” Jared continued, suddenly feeling inordinately pleased to have Jensen sitting here on his couch in his trailer. He smiled broadly, then started on his lunch.

***

The two of them fell back into their relaxed banter from the night before. Jensen mocked Jared’s gaffs in the takes before lunch and Jared stole food from Jensen’s plate. It was easy, familiar even, as the two of them contently ate their lunches.

“Tell me about the fiancée,” Jensen finally asked.

Jared’s mood took an immediate downturn.

“Or not,” Jensen quickly added as he saw Jared’s reaction.

Jared made a long assessing look at Jensen and saw no condemnation or accusation.

“S’okay. It’s just not something I’m particularly proud of,” he muttered.

“She’s a beard?” Jensen asked although he already knew the answer.

“There were some rumors about me and a cast mate when I was doing Gilmore Girls. My agent suggested I get myself a ‘girlfriend’ because my career would be over if everyone thought I was gay. I was young and I didn’t want it over before I even had a chance to make my mark so I went with it. But once you start... once everyone thinks you’re straight, it’s difficult to suddenly admit it was all a lie, and, besides, it’s still quite toxic in Hollywood for gay actors. Genevieve is just the latest.”

“She know she’s a beard?” questioned Jensen.

Jared hung his head, unable to answer, but his actions spoke louder than his words ever could.

“Shit, Jay,” Jensen didn’t really know how to respond to that.

“You don’t understand what it’s like!” Jared shot back.

“No, I don’t,” Jensen placated the younger man. “Nobody worries about who rock stars sleep with. In fact we are expected to want to sleep with anyone and everyone and anything. So you’re totally gay? Not even bi?”

“Well, girls don’t disgust me, it’s just... well...” Jared shrugged his shoulders helplessly.

“But getting engaged is a big step,” Jensen pushed on, curious how this open and honest young man had come to get himself into such an awful situation.

“She kind of entangled me up – we’d been dating for ages, and her mother kept pressuring her. She kept on at me and then, all of a sudden, I’m engaged ‘cos I’m feeling guilty as hell for deceiving her. I dunno,” Jared continued. He watched to see disgust or horror in Jensen’s face at his words but found none. Instead he found only sympathy and a thoughtfulness.

“It’s a fucking mess,” Jared finally concluded.

“You can’t marry her,” Jensen answered but not meanly.

“No. I know. But I don’t know how to tell her. What to say.”4

“Just the truth. No, not all of the truth,” Jensen quickly added as Jared sat up panicked. “Just that you’re sorry, and that you don’t want to marry her.”

“She’ll go apeshit,” Jared mused fearfully.

“Better that than her finding out that you’re gay after three years of marriage and wondering why you don’t ever want to sleep with her.”

Jared knew that Jensen was speaking wise words. And he trusted Jensen somehow. Jensen was not only older but had packed a lot of living in those years, made many mistakes of his own, but had managed to put his life back together again.

He grimaced repentantly, but suddenly felt as if a huge weight had lifted from his shoulders. He rarely told anyone the truth about Genevieve. It felt good to be totally honest with someone, and it felt good to have someone respond so kindly, so sympathetically, so wisely.

He looked across at Jensen Ackles and fell a little more in love.

***

“So I found this...” Jared begun once all the food had disappeared and the two of them were slouching relaxed in a post-lunch haze. He pulled out the request slip and held it up for Jensen to see. “How did you know?”

A crease formed between Jensen’s eyes as he thought for a moment. 

“Not sure,” he answered back. “I saw you watching... and I just knew.”

“You’re not psychic or anything, are you?” Jared asked.

“I don’t think so...”

Jared hummed in answer as Jensen gazed quizzically back at him. 

“You were crying, dude!” Jensen punched Jared lightly on the arm in answer to Jared’s disbelief.

Jared immediately punched him back with a laugh.

“Was not!”

***

Jensen knew that he should get off the set, leave Vancouver and return home before he did anything stupid. He definitely knew he should walk away from Jared Padalecki. But, despite all his determinations, he remained on set, remained in Vancouver and didn’t seem to be able to quit Jared Padalecki.

His day on set was interesting, and he was excited to see how all that TV magic happened. He genuinely was a great Supernatural fan, and he felt excited to meet the technical wizards who created the show. His inner geek was in heaven. Jared soon cottoned on that the infinitely cool Jensen Ackles was actually a nerd and had teased him mercilessly for the rest of the afternoon.

But it was Jared that was really making his pulse race and mind spin. Jared who was the big draw. He was surprised because, actually, he had originally watched the show because of Matt Bomer’s icy blue eyes, straight cut jaw and black hair. But Jared’s loud laugh, friendliness and sheer emotional openness was taking up all his thoughts. He empathised with Jared’s desperate situation, understood his pain at losing a friend, and admired him for still retaining his own self. More importantly, he could feel himself relaxing when he spent time with the guy, relaxing and letting down his defences.

He didn’t understand that. Frankly there was a part of him that was terrified and yelling at himself to get the hell away, but now he seemed addicted and unable to give up his reaction to Jared’s inherent Jaredness, even though he knew it could only end in trouble. I just have an addictive personality, he thought. It’s just that I am now addicted to Jared.

He’d finally phoned his son back, and watched indulgently as he passed his cell so that Jared could greet the boy and earn Jensen some points in the greatest father ever awards. Jamie’s calls he had left unanswered. He didn’t know what to say. 

Despite all his good intentions and promises he had made to himself eighteen months ago, Jensen was going to hurt Jamie.

Jensen had made the decision on waking that morning that he wouldn’t go to the set. But he found himself in a taxi driving to New Westminster. He told himself not to spend any time alone with Jared, but lunch had been a cosy twosome in Jared’s trailer. He was resolving now to return straight back to his hotel that evening, but knew he would somehow spend the evening with Jared. He was supposed to be flying back to England tomorrow but knew that he would delay his travel plans.

Inevitable.

***

It wasn’t so bad in the end. Jared invited the crew to dinner too, so the Jaredness that was eating away at Jensen’s resolve, was diluted. It didn’t seem so awful to be left on the curb by his hotel for the second night running, and Jensen was beginning to feel that perhaps everything would end up all right after all. Perhaps his integrity would remain intact.

***

The second day on set was even more fun. One of the production assistants had happily helped Jensen delay his flight to the following day, then the crew delved into undermining Eric Kripke with an enthusiasm and delight that might have hurt Eric’s feelings had he been there. But Jensen was lucky. Eric was returning to LA and the set was a show runner free zone. Everyone was determined that Jensen was going to get a role, albeit a small one, in his favourite TV show.

As soon as he arrived, Jared had pulled the musician into the make-up trailer. 

“You know how Kripke kept going on about not letting you onto the show because of some stupid quote of his from way back?” Jared spoke quietly but with an underlying tone of amusement, and conspiracy. “You are going to be a featured extra – one of the Croats! Loads of make-up. He may not even notice you, but I hope I’m there to see his face when he realises that Jensen Ackles has actually appeared on one of his shows!”

Jensen nodded in agreement, then grinned, Jared’s sheer joy and childish delight catching. He was going to have a part on Supernatural. Brilliant!

The problem that was Jared disappeared for a while. He was filming on a different part of the set while Jeannie worked her magic on Jensen, then had him escorted to wardrobe, and finally to the stunt men. Sam Winchester was going to be attacked by a roving group of Croatoan victims. Jensen, himself, was going to jump Sam. Jensen threw himself into the stunts – he’d never been particularly cautious physically, so throwing himself onto the massive stunt men held no fear for him. Jensen couldn’t remember a time when he was so excited and pumped up.

He was in zombie make up. 

Pretending to beat up big stunt men. 

Best day ever.

***

After finishing his scene, Jared wandered over to start rehearsals for the next one. The one with Jensen.

Jared stopped suddenly as he caught sight of the rock star.

Despite the layered makeup, Jensen was unmistakably Jensen. Red contacts, dark, purple shadow around his eyes, a wig of matted hair, and clothes that fell off him in tatters. Supposedly creepy, broken, and infected, he was laughing out loud with Lenny, one of the stuntmen and he was beautiful. Staggeringly, heart rendingly beautiful. Jared couldn’t remember ever seeing a picture or video where Jensen seemed so free and happy. His breath stopped in his throat, his heart lurched painfully, and his body temperature plummeted only for it to suddenly rush with a burning heat in the next second.

Jensen noticed his new friend, and the laugh turned into a wide smile.

“Best day, ever, Jay!” he cried and ran over to clap Jared on the back. The slap barely registered but Jensen’s “Are you OK?” when he didn’t respond slowly wound its way into his consciousness.

“Yeah... yeah... I’m g... I’m good, “ he finally choked out. Jensen’s swift frown was chased away by another smile. 

“I’m going to jump off that wall onto your back and then you are going to throw me off into that wall. I nearly broke my arm when Lenny dropped me earlier, and I must be black and blue but, it’s awesome, man!” Jared gaped at Jensen’s uncharacteristic chatter. Jensen’s eyes were lit with a bright excitement making them seem almost lime green.  
Jared felt like he had been run over by a truck and wondered how the hell he was supposed to get it together enough to actually film the scene.

With as much consciousness as an automaton, he allowed the director to pace out the scene with Jensen and the other four extras. They ran through the scene in full a couple of times, leaving him only with the scalding impression of Jensen’s arms around his neck, and Jensen’s weight on his back long after Jensen had pulled away ready for the next run through. Jared smiled reassuringly when odd flickers of concern at Jared’s slightly off behavior warred with the sheer joy on Jensen’s face, unable, even at a subconscious level, to allow Jensen’s happiness to abate, but he remained firmly discomforted.

Then, during the first actual take, Jensen landed awkwardly, and instead of being able to drag Jared back in the controlled safe way they had rehearsed, he fell, pushing Jared down with him. They toppled to the ground heavily, Jared briefly feeling a sharp pain in the shoulder as he landed and then his breath was forcibly removed from his lungs by Jensen’s full weight landing on him. For a few moments, neither of them moved, then Jared become uncomfortably , very uncomfortably, aware of Jensen’s breath against his neck, and the heat in the full length of Jensen’s body against his back.

Shit.

“Jesus, are you both alright?” concerned voices fluttered above him as he suddenly needed to be anywhere but here in public on the ground with the beautiful Mr. Ackles plastered to his back.

A blast of cold air shivered across his back as he felt Jensen being wrenched up by others. He could hear Jensen’s voice placating the crew, but Jared curled up, trying to hide his flaming face.

“Jay?” Jensen had crouched down and was gently touching his shoulder.

“I’m okay,” Jared hissed. “Give me a moment.” Jensen’s hand, fiery hot like a brand didn’t move from his shoulder.

“I’m sorry, dude – I just landed weird,” Jensen’s voice was layered with anxiety and worry. “Did I hurt you?”

“I’m okay,” Jared reiterated. “Honestly.” He started to struggle up to his knees turning away from the crew and Jensen, the heat in his face still burning. Jensen, moved round to look into his face, trying to ascertain if Jared was indeed telling the truth.

“Nothing broken,” Jared gasped out and then nearly died in shame as Jensen’s eyes travelled around Jared’s body, checking for himself. Jared’s arousal was obvious, he’d been half hard since he had first set eyes on Croat!Jensen, and rolling around on the floor with him had only made the situation become more critical.

Jensen surreptitiously moved to hide Jared’s source of embarrassment from everyone else.

“Dude!” he whispered, with a twinkle of amusement.

“Don’t fucking laugh,” Jared was slightly mollified by Jensen’s unconcern. “I’ve been so horny since we’ve been doing this fucking scene that I’m surprised it didn’t break our fall.”  
Jensen’s eyes widened momentarily, and then he burst out laughing.

“Bastard!” Jared muttered, although the sides of his mouth were twitching. “I suppose this happens to you all the time?”

Jensen chuckled quietly. “Can’t help if I’m devastatingly sexy. Although I have never had my life saved by a dick before.”

Jared finally had enough.

“I’m okay,” he called to the director. “Just give me a few moments to recover. Ackles. You can carry me back to the trailer.” And using Jensen as a shield and a crutch, he rose to his feet.

“I ain’t carrying your massive ass any where!” Jensen stoutly declared, but he took some of Jared’s weight and helped him hobble out of the sight of the concerned eyes on set.

“You want me to help you with that,” Jensen only half joked as they walked. Jared turned to him, heat still flushing his face. The two of them stared at each other for several moments – potential dancing between them.

“Only if you think you can handle it,” Jared half joked back but there was a fierce glitter in Jensen’s eyes in response.

“Darlings, I’m back!” A smooth, entitled voice suddenly bit into the tension across the trailer park.

All the heat drained out of Jared’s body, and his small problem was no longer a problem.

Bomer was back and heading in his direction looking pleased with himself.

With his situation getting under control, the pain in his shoulder became more insistent. He didn’t feel up to coping with Bomer, so he shrugged at Jensen, noting the small smile in return, and beat a hasty retreat before his co-star noticed him.

***

Jensen gave a small rueful smile, and turned to accept the effusive greetings from Jared’s co-star. Matt Bomer, larger than life, piercing blue eyes and classical good looks. Jensen had been a Dean!boy since he had first seen the show. He liked Dean’s insouciance, his quick wit and bravery and he had always wanted to meet the actor who played him. Seeing Bomer’s dazzling smile, Jensen wondered if he could, perhaps, forget Jared Padalecki as he re-engaged with his original crush.

He was keenly aware when Jared slipped away, but made no move to stop or follow him.

***

When Jared entered the catering tent later, he could hear Bomer holding court to a group of assistant DAs and PAs. He had been papped again – this time with a mysterious, dark skinned beauty, and was sure he was going to be all over the main press in the next couple of days. The last girlfriend wouldn’t be happy, Bomer exclaimed but he couldn’t help it if women kept throwing themselves at him. Truth was, Bomer didn’t really care what kind of press he got, as long as he got some, and as long as there was a beautiful woman involved.

Jared snorted to himself before noticing a quiet Jensen sitting in one corner of the tent, tense and wary. He didn’t stop, but piled his plates higher and speedier than ever then hastened over to sit with him. Jensen shook his head at the sight of so much food with a small smile. 

“You okay?” Jensen asked.

Jared smiled broadly and nodded.

“Bruised my shoulder, and it hurts like a bitch,” he answered with a mouthful.

They sat quietly for a moment, Jared still eating. 

“You been introduced?” Jared eventually asked nodding towards his co-star on the other side of the tent.

Jensen nodded but pulled a face. Jared started to chuckle.

“He’s full on, isn’t he?” Jensen said carefully.

Jared laughed outright. 

“You could say that.”

“Not a lot like Dean,” Jensen continued.

“Not much,” Jared stuffed another forkful of chicken in his mouth.

“He’s a bit disappointing.” Jensen had, in fact, been dismayed when he realised his dream Matt Bomer was a smarmy, fake misogynist with narcissistic tendencies and an ego larger than a cruise ship. 

“Ah, now. I wouldn’t say that,” Jared admonished. “You just need to get to know him better.”

“Not sure that I want to,” Jensen glanced over to Bomer with narrowed eyes. 

“Disappointed in your idol?” Jared teased. 

“Mmm...” Jensen hummed back as an answer. “May have to change my allegiance.” 

“What? You mean you were a Dean!boy? “ Jared’s voice was heavily laden with fake disgust.

“Not any more,” Jensen smiled. “I’m all for Sam now.”

“I should fucking hope so,” Jared concluded with a flourish of his fork. Then he grinned wickedly and leant in close to Jensen.

“He’s gay,” Jared whispered in Jensen’s ear. “He has a husband and two children, and is actually a great guy.”

Jensen gaped at Jared in shock.

“Really?”

“One of my best friends actually. I’ll take you both out to dinner tonight and you can see for yourself. This...” he waved his fork in Bomer’s general direction. “This is all an act.”  
Then he grinned victoriously as Jensen burst out with fresh, delighted laughter for the second time that day. Jared thought he had never heard anything so wonderful in life.

***

Bomer left the studio shortly after lunch but not before he and Jared had hastily arranged a date for that evening. Jensen and Jared did a second take of their scene without incident and then Jensen was able to just relax and enjoy the atmosphere. The crew seemed thrilled in his interest, and, although he watched Jared, he was joined by a succession of crew members all explaining the processes he was watching, or just shooting the shit, talking about their families or their holiday plans. It had been a long time since Jensen had been treated like just one of the guys.

In between takes, he and Jared traded insults, or just sat chatting - as if the incident this morning hadn’t happened. Jensen warmed thinking of Jared’s obvious arousal, and felt a thrill turn every one of his cells upside down and round and about.

Inevitable. 

Jensen was going to foul everything up again, and it seemed so inevitable. He dug his nails painfully into his palm. He knew what he should do. He should walk away from Jared now. There was only ever going to be hurt and destruction if he stayed. He watched Jared laugh at some joke from the AD. He’s too good for me, he thought. I will only hurt him.  
But he couldn’t get up of that chair, walk out of the studio, and out of Jared’s life like he knew he should. 

Fucking idiot.

***

“And this is my husband, Michael,” Matt Bomer smiled gently at the man at his side. Michael was older, going grey at the temples but had a strong hand shake, and Jensen looked surprised as he was introduced. Jared remembered feeling the same way when he had first met Mike Turner. He was the yang to Matt Bomer’s ying but somehow the two of them made it work brilliantly.

“These two were the only people who really and truly know I am gay,” Jared said simply to Jensen, giving them all permission to be open with each other. “Well, my agent has his suspicions but he seems to have been reassured by the engagement.”

Matt grimaced a little at Jared’s indirect mention of Genevieve but Jared ignored him. They had had this argument before. Jensen noticed, and Jared noticed him noticing.

Introductions made, the foursome allowed the hostess to lead them to a quiet table near the back of the restaurant. They were an incongruous group. Matt was sharply dressed in a suit and tie, handsome and smooth. Mike was a little crumpled, a little worn in, and obviously uncomfortable in his suit. Jared towered over them all, a jacket thrown over his tee-shirt, the most under-dressed of them all. 

And then there was Jensen. Leather pants, and a soft white button down, several buttons undone from the neck, leather round his wrists and around his throat. His hair had been artfully styled, in wayward soft spikes: two vivid green ones, obviously giving the old couple sitting at the table next to them palpitations. Then there was the black eye-liner, greening Jensen’s eyes further and emphasising their size. Jared had gulped convulsively several times before he had been able to greet him as he picked him up from the hotel. Jared wasn’t the only one affected by Jensen’s beauty. Both Matt and Mike stared unabashedly at him before turning to their menus.

Now they were in private, Matt effusiveness and unrelenting machismo had been replaced with his more genuine personality. Funny, witty with a dry humor. Still an ego the size of a house but Jared knew that there was a real and caring person underneath the Hollywood glamour, and he was hoping that Jensen would see it too.

Jared watched quietly as Jensen began to warm to the Matt. Jensen was asking about the children and the real reason for the trip to Hawaii (a family holiday, wouldn’t you know) and Matt opened up. Mike, always kind of shy, finally thawed too and began to chatter. There was nothing fake about Jensen – careful, maybe, and certainly not effusive – but his interest in other people was very real and Jared had enjoyed watching his crew respond to Jensen’s charm, and was now loving how Matt and Mike were both responding to the charismatic man.

The food was good, the company better, and Jared, unusually, the quietest member of the quartet, felt content and happy.

“I met Jamie at Sundance about six years ago,” Matt was saying, and Jared was shaken out of his reverie. “I really admire him – to be out and proud in this career is really something.”

“Wasn’t his choice,” Jensen explained, suddenly self conscious and very aware of Jared beside him. “He was outed by an ex-boyfriend early on in his career.”

“That’s right – wasn’t he doing Hamlet at the time?” Mike asked.

“I dunno – guess so,” Jensen answered.

“I wonder if it’s helped that he’s British. I understand quite a few of the theatre actors in Britain are gay,” Matt mused.

Jensen just shrugged. He had been relaxed but Jared watched as Jensen began to withdraw into himself again.

“Anyway it hasn’t hurt his career at all. Oscar and all,” Mike’s comment was weighted with an unspoken agenda and directed at his husband. 

“Yeah, but it was for best supporting actor and he’s done lots of independent films and lots of character parts and they usually don’t care,” Matt bit back swiftly. “He could have been a real A lister with his looks but, no - no-one would ever believe that gay actor could be a romantic lead or an action hero.”

“To be fair,” Jensen started calmly, suddenly aware of the tension in the air. “Jamie didn’t ever want to be any of those things in the first place, so he’s not too worried about it.”

“You just don’t understand,” Matt continued angrily to Mike, sitting ramrod straight in his chair, all prickly and defensive. 

“I think after all these years, Matt, I do,” Mike said smoothly. “You want a different sort of career.”

Matt had never made his ambitions a secret, and so far his stint as Dean Winchester had done his career good- he worked steadily in the hiatus and had made a couple of good films. But he wanted the A list status, the money, the romantic leads and action heroes. Hence the very secret family and husband.

“Funny to think that the butchest show on TV has two gay leads,” Mike smirked at Jensen who smiled back and shrugged.

“Do you find the same kind of discrimination in the music world?” Matt asked. “You know, as gay man.”

“I’m not gay,” Jensen answered swiftly. “I’m bi – but I guess after six years with Jamie, no-one remembers that any more. But no, as I told Jared the other day, sexual ‘deviation’ is expected in my line of work.” He laced his words with a heavy dose of sarcasm.

Jared fidgeted in the tension, as the waiters cleared their table ready for desert.

“So what is Jamie doing at the moment?” Mike tried for safer topic. “Is he filming? I would have expected him to accompany you here.”

Jared looked at Jensen, who was studiously studying the table cloth. The older man looked comfortable with the topic of conversation. Jared felt a stab of jealousy every time Jamie Callard’s name was mentioned, and suddenly the table cloth was as interesting to him as Jensen was making it seem. He felt rather than saw Matt look between them, an eyebrow raised quizzically.

“Jamie is at home. He’s just finished up a film in Prague,” Jensen answered.

“Oh yes? What film is... ow!” Mike yelped as Matt obviously pinched him, and Jared felt himself redden under the scrutiny of his friend.

The awkward moment was covered by the arrival of the dessert.

Matt decided to change the subject and he regaled them with stories of when he and Mike first met, and his first jobs in LA. Matt’s story telling was second to none and the four of them began to relax again, the awkward topic of Jamie Callard long forgotten 

Then Mike asked the waitress for four brandies with their coffees.

“Uh, Mike,” Jared began.

“I don’t drink,” Jensen added sharply.

“Really? Oh.... yes.... of course.... I’m sorry,” Mike looked super embarrassed. “Sorry.” He added again.

“I think it’s amazing how you sorted yourself out,” Matt blithely carried on. “How long have you been sober now?”

Jared dropped his head to the table in despair. Of all the awkward dinner parties he had attended, this one seemed to be the most awkward, but then he heard Jensen laugh.

He looked up, Creme Brulee in his hair, to find Jensen smirking at him.

“It’s okay, Jay,” Jensen smiled fully. “Eighteen months.” He turned to answer Matt who looked, to his credit, chagrined. 

“What’s going on?” Mike asked. “Everything’s got weird, suddenly.”

“Don’t worry, dear,” Matt turned to his puzzled husband and patted his hand. “I think we’ve been unwittingly stirring up all the difficult subjects here. There is obviously trouble in paradise between Jensen and Jamie, some of which might be caused by the excessive amount of UST between these two,” He waved his spoon between Jared and Jensen. “And I’ve just asked an alcoholic about his drinking problem. Not the most tactful conversation topics.”

Jared continued to gape at his friend.

“No, it’s all good,” Jensen reassured him. “It’s actually refreshing that someone is prepared to mention it. Most people pussy-foot round me as if I am going to break, hit them, or hit the bottle again.”

“But trust you, Bomer, to put your foot in it,” added Jared. 

Jensen smiled again.

“Might be a good idea not to mention Jamie again, though,” Jensen finished.

There was moment’s silence, then Jensen burst out laughing. 

***

The rest of the evening passed quickly. Jensen talked about his time in rehab for a while, making the other three laugh until they cried as he told them about the antics of some of the patients he served his time with. They had a heated conversation about sports, and booed when Mike started talking about the economy. They parted with friendly goodbyes and disappeared in two directions. Matt and Mike to their home they shared in Langley, and Jensen and Jared together.

Jared took them to Jared’s modest house in the suburbs without asking. Jensen was silent on the journey there, watching the lights of Vancouver pass the window, sure that he was about to ruin Jared’s life but unable to ask Jared to turn the car around and take him back to the hotel. He wanted to reach out and touch Jared, feel the smooth planes of his muscles, feel his heat, taste him. He wanted to fuck Jared or be fucked by Jared, he didn’t care which, he just wanted to be as close to Jared as he could, and that was overriding that little voice in his head that was telling him he shouldn’t let this happen.

All evening, he’d been aware of Jared’s unnatural quiet brooding, hyper aware of every little touch as they brushed against each other. But mostly he had been disturbed by the adoration he saw in Jared’s face. Too late. Too late. Whatever he did now, he was going to hurt Jared and hurt him badly. And, he warned himself, you are going to hurt yourself too. Are you up to this? It’s not been that long since you last drank? Can you cope? Can you live with what is about to happen?

As Jared opened the front door, Jensen was immediately bowled over by two very large and overly affectionate dogs, whilst Jared emptied large tins of dog food into bowls. They watched the dogs race to finish, making small talk, as if they had known each other for years and years instead of just forty-eight hours. Then they moved to the lounge and played a little Halo, Jared revealing a hitherto unknown and unexpected competitive nature that Jensen just laughed at. It was just nice and easy. This was supposed to be, this is where he should be, and he allowed his reservations to fade away.

Then Jared turned to Jensen with fire in his eyes, and a shake in his hand. Jensen took a deep breath and began to lean into the younger man.

“I need you to listen to me all the way through, without interruption,” Jared said. Jensen pulled back in surprise and nodded dumbly, his heart suddenly pounding hard in his chest.

“I want you,” Jared said after a deep breath. “I think you know this already. I haven’t ever wanted anything or anyone as much as I want you. I think you feel the same way about me. I think that it would be very easy for me to kiss you now and for us to fuck tonight.”

“But...?” Jensen interrupted because he could hear a massive ‘but’ in Jared’s voice and suddenly the evening was not turning out to be so inevitable after all.

“I am engaged, rightly or wrongly. You are in a committed and long standing relationship. We have both made some fucking awful decisions before this moment in our lives. We’ve barely known each other for forty eight hours - It’s been an amazing forty-eight hours and I think I am in love with you – but I don’t want us to make a bad decision because we don’t know if we will ever see each other again. Fucking you tonight would be both the most amazing thing I ever did but I know it would also be the most awful fucking decision I have ever made.”

“Jesus, Jared,” Jensen breathed as Jared finally stopped talking. He looked terrified, unhappy and hopeful all at once. 

Jensen fought the temptation to run, and to run a long, long way away. Jared’s words were still ringing in his ears, and he desperately tried to build up his protective walls. But Jared had demolished them sometime in the last couple of days and it was no good trying to rebuild. 

“Um... I... want you... I... I don’t know what to do.” He raised his eyes to Jared’s troubled ones, and felt his heart beginning to splinter.

Jared was still and silent for a long moment.

Finally he cleared his throat.

“Do you love Jamie?” he asked.

“Yes... I don’t know. I care for him. He’s been good to me. But... love? I barely know what that means. It’s been so long since I ever had to think about what it means.”

“Do you love me?” Jared asked so quietly that it was barely more than a whisper.

“I don’t know... maybe... no-one has ever made me feel like you do... I think I do, but Jay... I can give you a list as long as my arm of people who I thought I cared about and who I’ve messed up. You deserve someone so much better than me. It doesn’t matter what I feel about you, because you should run away before I ruin your life too.”  
Jensen’s eyes were hot but dry. He tried to call out to stop Jared, but he was unable to speak as Jared reached out a hand to touch Jensen’s cheek.

“You have no idea how amazing you are,” Jared said as he gently brushed his thumb across Jensen’s lips. The fire in that touch lit a blaze in Jensen’s stomach, and he pushed forward into Jared’s space, one hand slipping round to entwine in Jared’s long hair at the back of his neck, and the other seeking warm skin under Jared’s Tee-shirt.   
Jared’s lips came crushing down onto Jensen’s, searing and bruising, and seeking entrance. Jensen melted into Jared as he opened up and let Jared’s tongue steal in to tangle with his own. The taste of Jared was as heady as any drink and just as intoxicating, and Jensen climbed onto his lap wanting to get closer still. He could feel the hard heat of Jared’s erection pushing up against him, Jared’s large but gentle hands skimming over his back, as he devoured Jensen’s mouth. 

Bad decision it is then, he suddenly thought as Jared’s hands began to fumble at Jensen’s belt. 

And he stopped. 

He pulled his mouth away from Jared’s. They both breathed deeply as they looked at each other for a long time. Jensen felt his whole world fall apart as he finally climbed off Jared and escaped to the other end of the room.

When he finally could trust himself to look at Jared, he found the younger man with his head buried in his hands.

“Jay,” he started.

Jared shook his head. “I don’t want you leave.”

Jensen didn’t want to leave either.

“I’m trying to make the right decision, but at a time when I can’t think of anything other than not letting you go,” Jared explained more fully.

Jensen ran a shaky hand over his face and through his hair, smudging his eyeliner a little. He didn’t know what to do.

But Jared was pulling himself together, his voice getting stronger. He got up and stood in front of Jensen, grabbing his hands. He lowered his head seeking and imploring with his eyes until he got Jensen to look back at him.

“It’s been sudden, and too quick. We need some space, some thinking time,” Jared started to clarify. “We have to give ourselves a chance to make the right decision. Maybe this is it- maybe you are who I need and want in my life for the rest of my life. Maybe it’s just a holiday romance...”

Jensen physically felt pain at those words, his mind screaming denial, and he roughly pulled away from Jared.

“Do you really think that?” he asked, his voice rasping.

“Truthfully? No,” Jared answered. “I’m pretty sure you’re the one.”

He smiled sadly at Jensen’s pained expression.

“I think... I think maybe... you know...,” Jensen responded angrily.

“I know ,” Jared was gentle now and tried reaching out for Jensen again. Jensen couldn’t, and stepped back, unhappy at the sorrow in Jared’s face. “But at Jamie’s expense?”

All the fight left Jensen and he allowed himself to be tugged into the circle of Jared’s arms. It was reassuring and warm and Jensen didn’t want to leave their safety ever again. He tucked his head under Jared’s chin and took deep breaths of Jared’s scent. He tightened his arms around Jared’s waist and felt Jared squeeze him harder.

“I don’t want to leave you and this be the last time I ever speak to you or see you,” Jensen muttered deep into Jared’s chest. He allowed himself to be guided back to the couch still enveloped in Jared’s arms.

“Then this is what we’ll do,” Jared replied roughly, emotion straining his voice. “In a moment I will call a cab which will take you back to your hotel. You’ll get on your plane tomorrow and you’ll go home to Jamie. I may cry a little after you have left.” He smiled faintly at his own weak joke but Jensen was too full of emotion to even find it funny.  
“You’ll go home. We’ll give each other time and space to think. Then in a few weeks time, if we still feel the same way about each other, we’ll talk some more. You can’t just give up on a relationship you have had for several years because of someone you got to know for just a couple of days. You care for him, he’s your family, and a parent to your son. I don’t want to break up your family unless you are really sure that this is what you want to do. You need to have time to think about it. And I have things to sort in my life too. Then we’ll see...”

Jensen thought for a few moments. It seemed so nebulous and undecided, but he nodded.

“Okay, you’re right. I don’t like it, but you’re right. And I need to do what is right – for Tom and Jamie but, more importantly, for me.” And as he said it, he surprised himself by actually believing it. Maybe this didn’t have to be a shit fest. Maybe he could do the right thing. 

“You’re amazing,” Jared whispered into his ear, and then he kissed him again – soft, gentle and with such longing and promise that Jensen’s body immediately responded. He pulled away sharply but apologetically, an embarrassed flush creeping up his cheeks. Jared’s eyes had flashed with something dark before he looked away.

“Can I stay for a little longer?” Jensen asked sorrowfully. All day he had been unable to step away from Jared and he was reluctant to do so now.

“Midnight,” Jared said. “I’ll order a cab for midnight.”

***

They spent their remaining allotted time on the couch, holding each other. They barely said a word. They just sat, shell shocked and already grieving. When the cab arrived, Jared demanded Jensen’s phone and tapped in his number before he let Jensen exit the house. Then he watched the cab as it disappeared into the distance. This time he was the one left behind.

He didn’t cry though. He spent the rest of the night sat in his lounge utterly numb and bereft.

***

Jensen cloaked himself with his rock star persona throughout the flight and the long drive back down to Devon. There would be a few more stories about how Jensen Ackles was such a diva, but he didn’t trust himself to say anything to anyone.

When he finally reached his house it was late evening. Tom had already gone to bed, and only stirred slightly when Jensen went in to kiss him. Jamie had left a message to say he had flown out to Paris to do some PR for his latest film so Jonny, their sitter was there. Jensen had never been more grateful that Jamie’s schedule took him away from home so much, and had said goodbye quickly to Jonny with a few friendly words.

He carried his bag up to his bedroom and flung it on the ground. Then he flung himself on the bed, burrowing under the pillows, before giving out a sob which shook the whole of his body. And then, for the first time in many, many years, he cried himself to an eventual but restless sleep.

***

Four days after he returned from Vancouver, Jensen phoned the production offices at Eden Media and asked if they knew where Jamie was.

The answer hadn’t made him any happier. One day of PR in Paris and then they had assumed he had returned home.

Only he hadn’t.

“He’s only fucking gone on walkabout again,” he fumed down the phone to Stan.

“Well you know what he’s like,” Stan answered.

“Yes, he’s a fucking fucker who can’t be bothered to let the people who care about him know where he is! What if he’s lying dead somewhere, or he’s been beaten and is in pain?” Jensen voice rose in both pitch and volume.

“Never bothered you before,” Stan muttered. “I thought he was a free spirit and, whilst you worry about him, you can can’t tie a souring soul like his down. And, Jenny, I am quoting you here...”

“Was I fucking drunk?” Jensen spat out.

“Very probably. You have spent most of your adult life either drunk or high, speaking such stupid and profoundly pretentious shit,” Stan wheezed with laughter at the other end of the line.

“Bastard,” Jensen responded with the only retort he felt necessary.

“That too,” came the answer. “Jenny boy, you’ve been with the ‘fucking fucker’ for six years now. He’s always done this and he’s always come back safe and sound. Stop worrying. If he’s still not back in a couple of weeks, then you can panic and call the police. I expect he’s found some poet or artist and is losing hours discussing the essence of being or some other hippy crap.”

Jensen fell silent.

“He’s not fucking anyone else either,” Stan filled in the silence. “I hate the git, but even I don’t think he’s cheating on you, mate. He thinks the sun revolves around your arse. He’s just... not engaged in the real world and he loses track. He’s done it a million times. It’s fucking irritating but it doesn’t change the way he thinks about you.”

“I wouldn’t blame him if he did. Cheat, I mean, ” Jensen frowned.

“I would,” Stan countered. “Because there is nothing wrong with you that a little spell in rehab didn’t fix and he’s lucky to have you. He owes you big time anyway – Mr ‘I’m so in touch with my soul but I can’t handle my partner’s substance abuse problems.’”

“Shut up,” Jensen snapped. “Don’t get started....”

“Just tell yourself he’s off finding himself again. Won’t be the first time nor the last.”

“What if I needed him here?” Jensen asked. “What if I...”

“You’ll cope – you always do – and if it gets too much – I live five hundred metres down the road, fucker. Come visit me!” 

“What if…?” Jensen could feel his anger bubbling back to the surface but didn’t know what he wanted to say. Stan didn’t answer.

“Why is it me that always does the accommodating on this? Why can’t he accept that actually I might need him here?” Jensen continued.

“Are you alright, Jen?” His friend’s voice was laced with concern.

“Well, apart from a missing partner, I’m fucking amazing!” 

Stan chuckled again, but there was his usual edge to it – the edge his voice took on whenever his conversations with Jensen settled on the topic of Jamie Callard.

“Liar! Stop hiding in that bloody mansion of yours, and visit me, you bastard,” Stan finally said.

***

Two days later, Jensen returned from his early morning run to find the blond hair of Jamie Callard and the red hair of his twelve year old son, mingled as they bent over prints that had been strewn across the dining room table. Jamie was speaking pure poetry about colors and shades, and Tom was enthralled as always. 

Jamie had been a much needed parent to Tom when Jensen was incapable of being anything other than an embarrassment. His spiky irritation with his wandering partner softened as he watched them discuss the photographs that Jamie had obviously taken on his trip, and he stayed unobtrusive and unnoticed for quite a little while enjoying their gentle exchange.

But as Tom flipped over the last print he looked up and noticed his father standing against the door frame.

“Jamie’s back,” he grinned brightly, mirrored by the warm smile Jamie gave Jensen in welcome.

“Jen,” he called and Jensen finally entered the room properly. He joined his family at the table and rifled through a couple of the pictures as Jamie’s arm wound around his waist.

“Missed you, babe,” Jamie breathed as he nuzzled into Jensen’s neck, and suddenly Jensen was flamingly angry all over again. Jamie pulled back as Jensen stiffened, and tilted his head slightly as he regarded him.

“What no kiss to welcome me home?” Jamie pouted just a little, although would have denied having done so. “It’s been nearly two weeks...”

Jensen ignored him. “You ready for school, Tom? The bus will be here any moment.”

Tom looked from his father to his de-facto step-father worriedly but nodded when Jensen repeated the question. He grabbed his bag which had been dropped by the door in his haste to greet the return of the errant Jamie. He paused.

“It’s alright, Tom. I’ll show you the rest tonight. Have a good day at school, and remember to ask at least three good questions!” Jamie called over to him, hands still picking at Jensen’s shirt.

“I will. Are you going to pick me up tonight, Dad – I’ve got footie.” Tom obviously still couldn’t quite get a handle on the awkward tension between his parents, eyes flickering from one to the other.

“Sure,” Jensen tried to keep his irritation out of his voice when talking to his son, but his voice sounded tight and strained.

“Bye, Dad. Bye Jamie,” and with that Tom fled the room. Jensen heard the kitchen door slam as Tom raced out of the house to meet the bus at the end of the drive.

“Where have you been?” Jensen demanded and pulled away from Jamie to stand on the opposite side of the table.

“Paris,” Jamie replied evenly.

“What were you doing?”

“PR. Didn’t you get my note?” Jamie seemed slightly perturbed as if Jensen was a puzzle he couldn’t work out.

“Your PR was scheduled for Monday. It’s now Saturday."

“I kind of got lost in the art,” Jamie explained dreamily. “I’ve been visiting the galleries.”

“Really? Art Galleries?” Jensen spat out.

“If you hadn’t been in Vancouver that extra day, you could have come with me,” Jamie mentioned but without rancour. Jamie had a near supernatural ability to stay calm in all circumstances, and was the least bitchy person Jensen had ever met. He hadn’t meant anything with it but the mention of Vancouver, however innocently meant, stung. 

“What did you think I was doing, Jen?” Jamie continued smoothly, and Jensen became aware that Jamie was just soothing him, just like he used to do with Tom when Tom was smaller and unhappy. “Why are you so upset I went away? You know I like visiting places, getting to the heart of a city, losing myself in another culture.” Jensen could see that Jamie was genuinely at a loss to understand. 

“What if I had needed you here?” Jensen said finally.

“You don’t need me, Jen. And I don’t want you too. God, babe, please don’t get all clingy on me, I can’t bear that. You know I love you, that’s all you need from me,” Jamie answered in his quiet, unperturbed voice as he always did and Jensen didn’t have an answer to that. He never had an answer to that, but the exasperation and the anger still sat in his stomach like a stone.

The discussion was at an end, Jensen knew, but this time he didn’t allow Jamie’s soft answers to satisfy him as they had done since... well, the two had got together in the first place. For the first four years, he had simply drowned out his concerns with whatever drug of choice was at hand, and for the last eighteen months he hadn’t wanted to rock the boat.

He stiffly allowed Jamie to hug him, and then kiss him gently and, if Jamie noticed anything off, then he didn’t make a comment. Jamie’s kisses became more insistent, and Jensen began to respond in kind, allowing Jamie to laugh wickedly and then tug him by the hand until they reached the bedroom they shared. He pushed Jensen onto the bed, his quiet tones mouthing filth and promising a litany of delicious experiences. But when Jamie’s hand started to travel lower down Jensen’s belly, Jensen brushed his hand off and told Jamie that Kyle was due to arrive any moment and he had work to do.

Jamie raised himself up onto an elbow to look down at Jensen, his grey eyes widened with shock.

“Are you okay, Jen?” he asked a lilt of worry touching his voice.

“I’m fine,” Jensen answered. “Just got to get this album finished, and Kyle’ll be pissed if I try to miss another day.” He shimmied out from underneath Jamie, and left the room without looking back.

***

“So you’re pissed with him. Did you tell him that?” Stan muttered after Jensen had told him about Jamie’s return.

Jensen shrugged as if to say ‘what can I do?’ which received a disgruntled huff from his best friend.

“You do all the compromising in that relationship, Jenny boy. He gets away with murder,” Stan was warming up to him favourite theme again.

“Hardly murder. Five days in an art gallery,” Jensen snorted in return.

“Not exactly normal behaviour,” Stan’s disdain for Jamie was written all over his face. “Any normal person could manage an hour tops, not five bloody days.”

Jensen was silent but amused despite himself.

“Not like you to turn down sex though,” Stan continued. Jensen gaped with surprise.

“Who told you that?” he cried incredulously because it was obvious but not something Jamie would do – Jamie and Stan weren’t exactly the best of friends.

“Who d’you think? He’s all worried about you, because, and I quote, ‘you are behaving out of character’. And whilst there is mutual dislike on both sides, he at least is intelligent enough to know that if he wants to know anything at all about Jensen Ackles, he needs to come to me.”

“He phoned you just because I wouldn’t let him get his dick anywhere near me? He’s got a nerve,” All of Jensen’s anger came raging back. “Jesus Christ.”

“He’s right though,” Stan said assessing his friend as Jensen paced angrily around the room. “You might bitch about his trips a bit, but turning down sex. That doesn’t seem like you at all.” And then Stan started coughing, paroxysms from deep inside his chest.

“Shit, old man. Just breathe,” Jensen rushed to his friend’s bedside, desperately searching for the mask Stan had ripped off when Jensen had arrived.

“Funny...” Stan tried to say in between coughs but he accepted the mask and the oxygen it provided him gratefully enough.

“Stop trying to speak,” Jensen responded.

“Stop...” Stan spluttered. “Stop telling a man with lung cancer to breathe.” But he grinned at Jensen anyway. Jensen’s returning smile was tight but not at all genuine.

Stan and Jensen had been friends since they were kids. Stan was Jensen’s first friend after his family had dragged him kicking and screaming to London from Texas. He had been in Jensen’s first band although he was a crap musician. He had been best man at both of Jensen’s weddings. And he had been the only man brave enough to tell Jensen that enough was enough. He’d been the only person to visit Jensen in rehab (and that was something Stan would always hold against Jamie) and had been the person who picked him up when he had finally been discharged. The man who knew him best and who was now dying, albeit slowly, of too many cigarettes.

They sat in silence for a while, until the coughing subsided and Stan regained his breath.

“You’ve been unsettled and edgy since you got back from Vancouver,” Stan mused, his voice soundly strangely echoey behind the mask.  
Jensen stared at him.

“Kyle tells me that your head hasn’t been in the new stuff since you returned, and that nothing you’ve done since Monday has been worth saving,” Stan continued. “Tom says you’ve been distracted, and letting him win at all those crap computer games the two of you play all the time. Jonny said you nearly bit his head off when he asked you about next weekend and now Jamie is telling me you won’t have sex with him, and, boy, after six years of just accepting Jamie’s craptastic excuses, you’ve just now started to get angry about it. Hallelujah! But, taken all together, not really acting like yourself.”

“Maybe I have just had enough of the compromising,” Jensen answered.

“Maybe you have,” returned Stan, altogether too perceptive and knowing.

“One time too many,” Jensen reiterated.

“Who is it, Jenny boy,” Stan asked outright. “Who’s got you all hot and bothered?”

Jensen buried his face in his hands.

“Please don’t,” he pleaded. “I can’t... I just... I don’t want to talk about it. Not yet.” He should have known he couldn't keep a secret from Stan. There wasn't anything about Jensen that Stan didn't know.

He looked up at Stan, to see Stan’s long assessing look.

“Okay,” Stan finally said. “But you’ll need to talk about it at some point. If not with me, it had better be that sponsor of yours, ‘cos not talking got you into a lot of trouble before now...”

“I’m not going to drink,” Jensen countered.

“You’d better not. I don’t ever want to see you like that again,” Stan was shaking now, strong emotions wracking his body. He had found Jensen that fateful morning.

“I’m not going to drink,” Jensen repeated. “I’ll talk when I am ready... but...just... just not now, please.”

***

Jensen was gentler with Jamie following his visit with Stan. He was beginning to understand what was going on, and taking it out on Jamie was unfair. 

If Jamie expected to be able to wander the world at will, never letting Jensen know where he was and what he was doing, well, it was only because Jensen had allowed him to do it the entire time they had known each other. Truthfully he hadn’t cared when he was sky high with his drug of choice, and deep into the bottles of Jack Daniels he had loved so much. Or, at least, he could mask his anxieties and concerns with a dose of whatever and then it wouldn’t matter. He just looked forward to the joy of welcoming Jamie home and the hot sex that usually followed. 

And then, when he was clean and sober, he was so pathetically grateful that the man still wanted to stay with the complete fuck-up that was him, that he had been hesitant to discuss his concerns, worried that Jamie already had to contend with a vastly different Jensen than the one he had known before rehab and wouldn’t be able to stomach any more upheaval . So Jensen really couldn’t really expect Jamie to now understand the change in Jensen’s perspective.

Because Jensen did feel differently now. Suddenly Jensen was unable to deal with his disappointments with Jamie because half way around the world was a man who had totally turned his world on its head. Suddenly Jamie’s calm just seemed like detachment, his lack of communication seemed like unconcern, his passion just lust. He didn’t see Jensen because he allowed Jensen to keep his walls and shields in place, and it no longer felt like Jamie was respecting Jensen’s space but rather that he was showing a lack of interest in the real person. He didn’t appear to understand what Jensen wanted and needed, and Jensen’s self esteem had been woken up by a young man who seemed to know exactly who Jensen was, and liked him, loved him even, despite of it, and who worried away at Jensen’s defences until Jensen could only be Jensen with him. 

It wasn’t Jamie’s fault and Jensen felt evil for being angry with him. It was Jensen who had changed. Jamie was just Jamie, acting the same way he ever had.

That night he let Jamie, unusually subdued and careful after Jensen’s anger, reach out and fuck him. Jamie clutched at Jensen’s hips and pushed his lover’s face down into the mattress as he moved deeper and deeper into Jensen’s body and cried out as he came. But instead of letting Jamie hold him in the aftermath, Jensen was swift to get up for a cloth to clean them up, hiding as he did so, the complete lack of his own release. He hadn’t come, tormenting himself and feeling like a cheater, although he could not have expressed just to whom he thought he was being unfaithful.

***

Three days after Jensen had left Vancouver, Jared realised that he had failed to get Jensen’s cell number. He raged around his house, scaring his dogs, and causing a significant amount of damage. Afterwards, ashamed and unhappy, he made it up to the dogs with extra treats, and reconciled to himself that it was all going to be up to Jensen now, and Jensen’s cell into which he had at least typed his own number. He wasn’t at all sure that leaving it to Jensen was going to promote his own happiness but there was nothing he could do about it.

Three weeks after Jensen had left Vancouver, Matt Bomer had had enough and called uncle on Jared’s moping.

“So you didn’t give a deadline, set a date?” 

“No,” Jared answered sullenly, not at all happy to be called out on his behavior.

“So Jensen is not late in calling you?” Jared decided that Matt Bomer was a pushy bastard and that he hated him.

“No.”

Matt shook his head in mock sorrow.

“Jared, man, you are so stupid,” he said unreassuringly. “What the hell did you let him go for in the first place?”

“I thought I was doing the right thing. Now I’m just miserable,” Jared answered.

“Well, of course, you’re miserable. He’s the love of your life and you let him go,” Matt put his arm around his co-star. “Idjit! But there is no excuse for this moping. We have established that he could still call you. And as I’m pretty sure he was as hung up on you as you are on him, I’m sure he is going to call. So please, fucking cheer up because you are doing my head in.”

“I miss him, Matt,” Jared answered. Matt was suddenly all serious sympathy.

“I know, man,” and Matt, being the extremely good friend he was, just wrapped the taller man in his arms without worrying if someone could see. “I know.”

***

The good thing about playing Sam Winchester, was that Sam Winchester had a shit life, and therefore Jared could channel all his grief and pain into the character, and everyone would simply think he was an astonishing good actor and really connecting with Sam’s emotion. Bomer had just laughed when Jared had complained he felt like a fraud and told him to enjoy the moment because once he and Jensen sorted things out, and he was deliriously happy, playing Sam was going to one god-awful and difficult task.

And it helped in a small way. He was able to ease the emotion by letting it pour out of Sam, and he felt marginally better. Enough to still grab a drink with the crew, or go to dinner with Matt and Mike and not be too much of a miserable drain on everyone’s spirits. But what he couldn’t face was Genevieve. He cancelled on her for two weekends before he realised that he was just being coward, and that he ought to face up to his responsibilities.

Part of him whispered that he would need her if this thing between him and Jensen didn’t play out the way he wanted, that he would still need a woman on his arm. But he kept hearing Jensen calmly telling him that he couldn’t marry her, and he knew that he needed to finish it before things got any uglier.

He caught the early Saturday morning flight to LAX, figuring that it would be better for her if she was comfortably in her own home. His heart was in his mouth, and he was chilled by a cold sweat as he gently explained that he cared for her very much but he couldn’t marry her.

“Is there someone else?” She had remained dry-eyed but her voice was sharp.

“Maybe,” Jared answered unwilling to lie outright now he was making things right.

“I thought you loved me,” she accused him.

“I’m so sorry. I should have never let this get so far. I never meant to hurt you,” Jared tried to explain.

“You never wanted to marry me, did you?” She was like a judge and jury all rolled into one.

“No,” Jared looked her square in the face as he spoke the brutal truth.

“I think you had better leave,” she said finally.

He nodded and left without another word. Outside he took a moment to begin to breathe again, and calm the violent tremors wracking his body before he took off and headed for the coast. He spent the rest of the day walking up and down the beach until the sun began to set, trying not to think of anything at all.

It wasn’t until he got back to Vancouver and his comfortable house, and accepting dogs that he realised that he felt so much better, as if a massive load had been lifted from his shoulders.

***

OK magazine had a full page spread.

Padalecki and Cortese break off their engagement.

Three pictures of a miserable looking Genevieve Cortese and one small blurred papped shot of Jared on set.

Cortese didn’t understand it. Everything had been wonderful. She was devastated but ready to get on with her life.

The caption below the picture of Jared simply said: Refusing to answer questions about the failure of his engagement, Padalecki gets back to work.

Jensen calmly and systematically ripped the page into thousands of very small pieces. He poured a whisky, then threw it down the sink. He cleared up the paper detritus and poured another drink, breathing the earthy scent deeply. The he tapped his sponsor’s number into his cell with a trembling fingers, cancelled the call with a profanity and tipped the contents of both the glass and bottle down the sink. Finally, he slammed the door behind him and ran down the road to the house where he was always welcome.

***

“His name is Jared Padalecki,” Jensen owned.

Stan cleverly refrained from making a comment.

“He’s one of the actors from that show I like,” Jensen continued with his confession.

“The one with the blue eyes or the giant?” Stan interrupted gaining a glare from his friend.

“The giant,” Jensen answered. 

“Oh!”

“He’s...” Jensen began, but then stopped. He had no idea how to explain Jared to Stan. He felt really uncomfortable under Stan’s intense gaze.

“He feel the same way?” Stan decided to ask.

“Yes... at least, I think so. He said so.”

“He like your music?”

“He’s a fan, yes. But...”

“But what?”

“It didn’t seem to matter – not once we got to know each other. He didn’t seem interested in Jensen Ackles the rock star. He just seem to like me, for being me... d’you know what I mean?”

“How did that make you feel?” Stan seemed to have picked up the skills of a psycho-analysts during his long tenure as Jensen’s best friend.

“I dunno... relaxed, I guess. Excited. Like I was worth something beyond just making records.”

“So what are you doing back here?” Stan questioned.

“Er, um, Tom? Your Godson, remember?” Jensen’s voice reflected his disbelief that Stan could even ask the question.

“And Jamie too, I suppose,” Stan pushed.

“Him, too,” Jensen admitted.

“Bullshit, Jensen,” Stan had sat up pulling his oxygen mask off, eyes sparking with anger. “You forget I know you better than anyone else. You don’t love Jamie – never have. Been in lust with him, perhaps. Cared for him, certainly. But you are not in love with him... you are clinging onto him because he’s about the only security Tom has ever known, or you, for that matter.”

“Way to make me sound like a fucking girl, you moron,” Jensen replied angrily.

“And he certainly doesn’t love you. Not really. You are just one of those pieces of art he likes to collect – the ultimate aesthetic experience. He liked the edge and wildness of you. The moment he had to commit more fully, and actually engage with your fucked up life, he ran a thousand miles away – literally and figuratively – or can you spin his three months in Peru while you were vomiting and sweating out all the toxins you’d consumed over the last fifteen years into anything more positive? And he’s been around even less now you’re sober and living a quiet, very much less wild and exciting life or hadn’t you noticed?”

“He’s been brilliant with Tom!” Jensen’s defence of Jamie was hotly delivered.

“I’m not denying that. The two of you have also had your brilliant moments, but don’t kid yourself that this is the real deal,” Stan’s anger was affecting his breathing and he was beginning to wheeze badly. Jensen leapt forward to push Stan back onto his pillows.

“Calm down , you idiot,” he said roughly.

Stan sighed and then gave a hollow laugh.

“Ironic that cancer is killing me, I always thought it would be you that would get me in the end.”

Jensen huffed and felt tears begin to sting his eyes.

“You were happy once,” Stan said much more gently now, and allowed Jensen to puff up his pillows before he grabbed his hand sitting on the bed beside him. “You were brilliant, imaginative and creative and genius, and you threw yourself into life with confidence, joy and enthusiasm. You’re still brilliant and genius but I had to watch you destroy that joy with the fucking drink and drugs, and beat yourself down with your fucking disrespect for your body. And it nearly killed me, boy.”

“Stan...?” Jensen interrupted.

“No. I will have my say. I’ve earned it – I earned it the day I found you near fucking dead from overdosing, near drowned in your own puke,” Stan gripped Jensen’s tee-shirt tightly and pulled with a strength that belied his frail frame so that he was nearly nose to nose with his younger friend.

“You spent fifteen years trying to destroy yourself. And, don’t get me wrong here because I have never been prouder of how much strength and determination it took you to get your act together and pick yourself up, but you’ve spent the last eighteen months since then living like a hermit terrified to get back out there and be brilliant again. You’re like sleeping beauty at the moment, enclosed by high walls and impenetrable woodland, breathing in the stale air. You’re going to miss the rest of your life because you won’t let anyone get close to you anymore. Jamie won’t attempt to break in because he’s incapable of coping with he might find out when he discovers what lies beneath all your crap and who you really are.”

“But...” Jensen could smell the tang of the hospital antiseptic that Stan always seemed to carry with him these days and it just hurt him to the quick.

“I know it’s been rough – you’ve had some real shit to deal with, and I will never forgive myself for not noticing sooner that you weren’t coping. But you have the biggest and best opportunity now. You are clean, sober and stronger than you can ever believe. You just have to trust yourself and you can be happy again. God, I just want to see you happy again before I die, but you’ll not find happiness with Jamie. He isn’t for you, Jenny boy. ” A tear stole down Stan’s left cheek, which he wiped furiously away . Jensen tugged the sick man closer to him, as Stan’s thin arms wrapped themselves even more tightly around him.

“How do you know that Jared might be the one?” Jensen asked wetly.

“I don’t. But neither of us can know that unless you give it go,” Stan said softly, allowing his fingers to start combing gently through Jensen’s spikes. “But something has stirred you up, made you start looking outward or you wouldn’t be here questioning your relationship with Jamie. Isn’t it worth taking a chance, just in case?”

Stan’s word rang around the room, echoed around Jensen’s consciousness. Life felt so hard sometimes, but Stan had always been his strength, his safety net, his best and most critical friend. 

“I wish you and me could have worked it out between us,” Jensen sighed with his head buried in Stan’s neck already feeling the grief of losing his friend, but also shaking with the effort to hold in his emotion.

“No you don’t. You weren’t interested and I long ago accepted that,” Stan answered wistfully.

“You loved me,” Jensen raised his head, eyes bright with tears but wanting to see Stan’s face when he answered.

“I still do,” Stan replied. “But even if I weren’t dying, I would just be another safe blanket for you to hide under. And there is no way in hell I want to be that.”

Jensen sniffled sadly into Stan’s warmth.

“Do you like who you are when you were with this Jared Padalecki?” Stan asked after a few minutes of silence, the two of them lost in their own pain.

Jensen took a deep breath and thought about the question for a moment.

His voice waivered a little when he answered.

“Yes.”

“So take a chance, Jen. Do what you need to do to make it right for you, and take a chance.”

He squeezed Jensen tight once more then let go suddenly with a push away.

“Jesus , boy. Why do you always gotta make us act like we’re a bunch of girls?”

Despite the wetness in his eyes, Jensen snorted with laughter.

“Nothing to do with me, old man. That’s all on you, and your crazy need to talk everything out…” he responded.

Stan’s answering laughter turned into a wheeze, and then he looked up in all seriousness into Jensen’s eyes.

“Take a fucking chance, Jen. Let me see you live a bit before I have to fucking die.”

***

Jensen spoke to Tom first. It was possibly the most difficult thing he had ever had to do. Jamie had come into their lives when Tom was barely seven years old, and had been a steady influence and a fantastic parent.

He didn’t explain about Jared. He told Tom about how he had changed from when he had been a junkie, a drunk, and how what he wanted then was different from what he wanted now he wasn’t drinking and using any more. He explained how he really cared for Jamie but that he felt that Jamie needed him to be different than he was and that it wasn’t fair on him, Jensen, to try to be something he wasn’t. He talked about how he was just beginning to trust himself and trust in himself to be the person he knew he could be, and that Jamie was a part of what he used to be, and he had to leave that and Jamie behind.

Tom had never known Jensen before he became a rock and roll cliché. There had been times when he had hated his father, but he recognised how Jensen had now become a so much better person since rehab, so much a better Dad. And a kid doesn’t live through hell and back without learning something. So with a maturity beyond his years, he wept for the loss of one parent but accepted the needs of the other.

“Is this something to do with Vancouver?” he asked once he had dried his tears, but whilst he was still wrapped in his father’s arms.

“Yes,” Jensen answered.

***

It pained Jensen to see Jamie finally lose his cool. 

Jamie screamed, cried, begged, accused Jensen of drinking again, and spat out insults and hurt. 

“I guess I don’t need to ask if there is anyone else. You always were a cheating slut,” he flung at a surprisingly stoical Jensen. Maybe back then, Jensen thought, but not since rehab. 

The following morning, Jamie had gone. He’d woken Tom up at four in the morning to say goodbye, promising to keep in touch and visit, and then had just fled.  
He had written Jensen a short note.

I’m sorry for what I said. I hope you find what you are looking for. Jamie X

Tom found Jensen sitting against the wall in kitchen a few minutes later, and they both cried tears of grief and loss. Then Jensen hauled his son up, made porridge for breakfast, and drove him to school. 

***

The story was on the front page of every newspaper.

Ackles and Callard split – Jensen Ackles and Jamie Callard have announced their official separation, despite all efforts to save their six year relationship. It is thought that Ackles’ recent alcohol and drug problems and accidental overdose placed a great deal of strain on the partnership...

Jared didn’t know how he should feel. He jumped every time the phone rang, hoping Jensen would call, but hated himself for feeling joy at someone else’s pain.

Four days later, Jensen still hadn’t called, but the paparazzi had managed to get a blurred picture of him as he took his son to school. He looked tired and drawn. Jared cut the picture out and put it on his fridge. Every time he walked passed he stroke a finger down Jensen’s weary face and sent out a prayer for his well-being and a plea for Jensen to call.

Five weeks later, Matt Bomer was seriously worried about his friend. He and Mike talked Jared into staying with them, so they could keep an eye on him. It wasn’t because they thought Jared would harm himself – Jared just wasn’t that kind of guy – but he didn’t seem capable of looking after himself. Matt forced him into the shower every morning, and watch over him as he choked down his breakfast. They both relentlessly entertained him with DVD’s, trips to restaurants, and at the weekends, trips out with the family. Jared had just tuned out of life as every fibre of his being listened for his cell to ring.

By the time the sixth week came and went, Matt had to conclude that Jensen, even with his new status as a single man, was never going to call. He couldn’t bear to see how twitchy Jared got every time the phone rang, how hopeful and then how disillusioned he was as he answered, and he itched to grab the damned thing, throw it into the sea and put an end to matter there and then.

Finally he lost his patience and staged an intervention. He grabbed the phone as Jared laid it reverently on the table in the catering tent. Matt had got a plate of food for Jared, who ate it disinterestingly, whilst eyeing the phone. Matt, in a split second’s decision, just took it.

“I’m going to throw this fucking thing into the bin,” Matt cried as he scooted back to avoid Jared’s grab to regain the phone.

“No!” Jared rose up, all imposing six foot four, rage mottling his face.

“He isn’t going to call. Get over it, Jared. He isn’t going to...” and he stopped suddenly as the phone went off in his hand. He stared at it not quite knowing what to do. Then he raised it to his ear and connected the call.

“Hello. This is Jared Padalecki’s phone,” he said.

“Jay?” came a hesitant voice.

“No, I’m...” Matt lost his words and just handed the phone back over to Jared. Jared held it in his hand looking down at it quizzically.

“Answer it, damn you,” Matt suddenly found his voice. “It’s Jensen fucking Ackles.”

***

Mike laid down a hundred bucks that Jensen would back out of the visit. 

Matt secretly feared that he might be right, but was too romantic to admit it. Love can conquer all, he believed and hoped, but he still claimed a grasp on reality which suggested that whilst love might conquer all, it would have a pretty hard time with Jensen and Jared - Jensen with his past broken history and a firmly closeted Jared.  
Nope, it wasn’t going to be easy.

After Jensen’s first call, the two of them (Jensen and Jared that is) had been in daily contact. Actually, Matt suspected that the two of them were talking more than once a day but Jared wasn’t prepared to admit to it. Matt watched the return of Jared’s humor and energy with satisfaction, listened to Jared’s excited plans for Jensen’s visit, but kept all his fingers crossed. He even helped to tidy and clean Jared’s house in preparation for the visit, and shushed at Mike’s ever increasing gloomy forecasts.

Despite the obstacles, he was hanging onto hope for Jared and Jensen. The going might be hard but he really wanted them to make it for Jared’s sake. 

***

“He wasn’t there,” Jared’s voice spoke of strain, his body curled in on itself. Mike gave Matt a ‘I told you so’ grimace over Jared’s head as he made the coffee.

“You’re joking!” Matt answered, feigning an incredulity that he didn’t really feel.

“I waited all day. He wasn’t on that plane,” Jared insisted, his voice wearied and tired.

Matt sat down at the opposite end of the table watching, carefully, his miserable friend at the other end.

“I thought he rang you on his way to Heathrow?” Matt asked.

“He did, but I haven’t heard anything since,” Jared answered bleakly.

“Perhaps he missed the plane?” Mike tried to reassure the younger man from the other side of the kitchen. Matt fell in love with him all over again as Mike made an effort to sound positive, although he had bet that Jensen wouldn’t show in the first place.

“But why wouldn’t he ring if that was the case?” Matt answered with a question of his own as Jared’s face fell even further into despondency.

“Perhaps he ran out of charge? Or he lost his phone?” Mike shrugged. Still he was trying his best despite the hundred dollar prize he was soon going to receive. Matt gave him all sorts of credit for that and silently promised his husband a blow job later that night.

“There’s phones on the plane,” Jared added, obviously determined not to be appeased.

“When’s the next flight due in?” Matt asked.

“I waited for the next flight – there isn’t another one until tomorrow now,” Jared explained. Mike placed a giant mug of coffee in front of him, then he joined the other two at the table, sipping his own coffee contemplatively.

“I waited at the airport for eight hours,” Jared seemed beaten down and it wasn’t surprising. “Then I came back here and called you. I don’t know what to do.”

Matt had gotten the call and then instantly dragged Mike and the children over to Jared’s place. Like he always said, he was a terrific friend. He turned to look out through the window to Jared’s backyard. His two kids had been running in and out of the house in the gathering gloom torturing Jared’s dogs. He hoped that Jared wouldn’t notice. The sky was blackening with heavy rain clouds and one or two fat drops were splashing onto the deck.

He sighed at Vancouver’s charming weather as the drops turned into a downpour and then turned to consider Jared’s situation. If it wasn’t for their ridiculous filming schedule, Jared could have gone over to England. But Jensen had more flexibility with his time. It was a risk. Jensen was very much the more flaky half of the couple – no, that wasn’t fair. Jensen had his son to worry about and a friend who was terminally ill. He decided to give Jensen a break.

“It’s all drama with you two, isn’t it?” he laughed without humor.

The three of them sat drinking their coffee, Jared obviously making an effort to hold it together. Mike and Matt empathising. The children screamed and shouted with laughter as they chased the two dogs around the house.

“They aren’t going to hurt them are they?” Mike suddenly asked.

“Who’s going to hurt who?” Jared returned. 

Mike chuckled but lacked conviction. “Good point!” But the reflective moment was broken. Jared shook himself.

“I’m sorry, guys,” Jared apologised. “I shouldn’t keep dragging you into my shit all the time. Look, thanks for coming but go home. I’ll be all right.”

The kitchen had fallen dark as the rain fell more heavily and night was beginning to fall too. 

“I’m an awesome friend,” Matt reiterated but out loud this time. “We don’t mind. It’s what awesome friends are for.”

“Right,” Mike backed up his husband loyally.

Jared laughed – a true laugh which made Matt think that Jared might be all right after all and then the door bell rang.

“Ah,” said Mike, “That’ll be Jensen.” And he looked as surprised to hear his own voice uttering those words as Matt was.

Jared had already got up and was heading out of the kitchen into the hall. Matt hoped he hadn’t heard Mike’s throwaway comment.

“What did you say that for?” he whispered fiercely to his partner. But he didn’t wait for answer, because suddenly he felt absolutely certain that Mike was inexplicably right. He immediately rose out of his chair and flew out to join Jared at the door. 

Which was open. 

And standing just outside was an incredibly wet and dripping Jensen Ackles, looking pale, eyes huge and dark.

Jared was just gaping.

“Dude,” Matt muttered. “Don’t you think you should let him come in?”

“Yeah, yeah, of course,” Jared was immediately a whirl of action, reaching out to grab Jensen’s shoulder with one hand to pull him into the house, and grabbing Jensen’s heavy bag with the other. They shuffled back into the light and warmth of Jared’s hall. 

Two pairs of curious human eyes and two pairs of canine eyes stared solemnly out from the lounge at the sodden creature before them, and the nervous flustering of their godparent and their father.

“Wow!” said Katie, eleven going on seventeen. “You look like Jensen Ackles.”

Jensen seemed shocked to suddenly find himself the object of such perusal, but grimaced faintly.

“That’s because I am,” he answered.

“Pretty sure Jensen is getting cold standing there while you all make nice,” Mike said abruptly from the doorway of the Kitchen. “Perhaps you could get him a towel, Jared, while I put the kettle back on and make him a hot drink? Coffee good?” He directed his last question at Jensen himself who nodded. 

Jared duh’ed himself and ran up the stairs three at a time, to find a towel, and returned to find Jensen being sat at the kitchen table in the place he had only just vacated himself. Jensen smiled again shyly and then buried his head into the soft comfort of the bath sheet.

“What happened?” Matt pressed. “Jared’s been at the airport all day.”

“Been on walkabout,” Jensen answered with a empty sounding laugh. “Sorry.”

“When did you get in?” Mike asked as he handed a mug of steaming coffee to the soaked man. Jensen didn’t answer for a moment as he breathed in the coffee fumes.

“I got in just gone four o clock,” he eventually replied.

“But weren’t you due in on the ten forty-five this morning?” Matt was puzzled.

“Yes,” Jensen answered Matt’s question but was looking directly at Jared over his mug. “I missed the flight.”

“Oh!” Matt and Mike both reacted together both looking at the clock which showed eight-thirty five. Neither of them braved asking why Jensen hadn’t met up with Jared since Jared had been at the airport all afternoon, and why it had taken over four hours for Jensen to land on Jared’s doorstep when the airport was only a thirty minute cab journey away.

“I think,” Mike said slowly, “that it is time for us to go home.”

Matt jumped up again, startling the other occupants of the kitchen. “Yep, thanks for the coffee, Jared, but we’ve got to get the kids to bed. Katie! Stevie, leave off torturing Sadie and Harley and get your things. We’re going home.”

The next few moments were a flurry of goodbyes. Both kids were nervous of Jensen but threw themselves on Jared anyway, almost slobbering as much as the dogs could as they said their goodbyes.

“Good to see you again,” Mike said to Jensen politely as he exited the house with two children in tow.

Matt turned to look at Jared and Jensen, both now standing in the hall again.

“Be good to each other,” he said warningly, but his eyes were on Jensen, who nodded, recognising the implied threat in Matt’s seemingly innocuous words. And then he turned and was gone with just a “You owe me a hundred bucks, darling!” aimed at his husband.

***

Jared shut the door behind the noisy family and the house felt eerily quiet.

He had hadn’t even said hello yet.

“Hey,” he gently smiled at his visitor.

Jensen smiled faintly back. He seemed nervous, and withdrawn.

“Hey, you too,” Jensen then answered as he was enveloped into a full Jared hug. “Jeez, man, I’ve got to be really ripe.” Jensen pulled away quickly. Jared let his arms fall awkwardly to his side.

“Pretty wet too. Damn, I’m sorry, Jen. Where are my manners? You must want to get out of those clothes.”

Jensen raised one eyebrow.

“You’re soaked,” Jared was already moving, oblivious, picking up Jensen’s holdall and beginning to head up the corridor beyond the kitchen door. 

“I’d like a shower,” Jensen requested.

“Sure, there’s plenty of hot water.” Jensen followed Jared into a nicely proportioned room with a view out into the garden through its small square window. Jared dumped the bag onto the bed, before swearing as he realised it was still dripping wet and then put it onto the floor. He moved through the room to the en-suite turning on the light.

“I hope you don’t mind... you know... the spare room,” Jared said uncomfortably. “I didn’t want to assume...” He let his voice trail off.

But Jensen was smiling, a little uncertainly but still smiling.

“Feels a bit weird, now you’re here,” Jared continued, opening his mouth and letting his thoughts tumble out. Jensen nodded. Despite their frequent phone calls over the last three weeks, Jared didn’t feel at all prepared to be back in Jensen’s physical presence, and they were both obviously ill at ease. They had kept things light in their phone calls. Friendly. Jared chattering about the minutiae of his life while Jensen listened. Neither of them brave enough to take it any deeper. Not on the phone anyway.

“Are you hungry? I can call for take-out. What d’you fancy?” Jared stumbled over his words.

“I’m starving,” Jensen replied. “You chose.”

***

Jensen quickly showered as Jared phoned through for pizza. He ordered two, one with every topping on offer and another with a more restrained pepperoni and mushroom, then dug out the mineral water bottles he had bought yesterday in preparation for the visit. By the time the delivery guy had deposited two steaming pizzas to the door, Jensen had rejoined Jared in the kitchen, in fresh clothes. They ate in silence sharing both pizzas equally.

“So,” Jared asked in due course. “What happened?” 

“I missed my flight,” Jensen answered.

“Bullshit,” Jared challenged.

Jensen, at least, had the good grace to look sheepish.

“I didn’t get on the plane,” Jensen supplied.

“Oh,” Jared responded.

“I sat in the airport for six hours and then got on the next one.”

“Oh,” Jared repeated. “I waited for that one too.”

“I sat at the gate for a couple of hours before heading for baggage and customs.”

“I waited and waited until I was sure there was no-one from the flight left to come through,” Jared tried not to sound like he was complaining, but he could hear the whine in his voice. It had been a really bad day.

“I was the last one through and the airport was empty by the time I finally reached the pick up point. It’s okay - I wasn’t expecting you to still be around.”

“Oh.”

“I made the taxi drop me off at the end of the road.”

“When was this?” Jared asked.

“About six o clock,” Jensen answered carefully.

Jared looked quizzically at his visitor.

“I may have walked round the block a few times,” Jensen finally finished.

“You walked around the block for two and a half hours, Jensen,” Jared stated bluntly.

Jensen seemed surprise as he looked up at the kitchen clock, and a little embarrassed.

“Well...” he started.

“Why?” Jared asked interrupting.

Jensen went for total honesty. “I was absolutely fucking terrified.”

“Of me?” 

Jensen shrugged in response to Jared’s question.

“No... not exactly...” Jensen didn’t seem to be able to answer.

***

What could he say? 

This was what he had wanted. To be here. With Jared. Obstacle free.

But he hadn’t told Tom the reason for his trip, and, whilst he had the most intelligent and mature twelve year old in history, Tom’s peaked, sad face at their parting had been haunting him. He hadn’t told Jamie the reason for his trip either, although Jamie was keen to do babysitting duty and probably had a good idea just where his ex was heading. Jamie’s distraught face as Jensen had deposited Tom on the doorstop of Jamie’s newly rented apartment on the South Bank was also haunting him. He had tried to do the right thing and still he had managed to hurt people he cared about.

And Jared? Who had spent his entire adult life hiding his sexuality behind fake girlfriends? Getting involved with Jensen Ackles was almost certainly going to out him. Jensen didn’t go anywhere without a trail of paparazzi, and it would only be a matter of time before someone spotted him here in Vancouver and then start wondering why? Was Jared up to the kind of focus that the world’s press would place on him when they found out?

Somehow, Jensen was going to end up fucking up Jared’s life too.

So he’d spent most of the day trying hard to walk away.

He’d failed, of course.

Surely Jared would never be able understand, so what could he say in answer to Jared’s reasonable questions.

Except Jared was looking at Jensen only with empathy.

“I guess I have been so focused on getting you here - getting us here to this point - that I overlooked the complications that still exist,” he was saying, and Jensen realised that Jared did understand. Of course he understood because Jared had that innate ability to see right inside Jensen’s soul...

“Jamie knows there is someone else but I didn’t tell him anything about you,” Jensen just blurted out, feeling raw and exposed, because Jared could undermined all his defences so quickly.

“Yeah? I didn’t tell Genevieve about you either – although to be fair to me, would she have believed me if I told that I was not only gay, but in love with Jensen Ackles?” Jared responded ruefully.

“Did you tell her you’re gay?” Jensen asked surprised.

“Uh.., no,” Jared answered truthfully.

Jensen ran his hand across his face and through his soft hair, mussed from towelling. Then started to chuckle.

“Jeez, Jay. What are we doing?” he asked plainly.

Jared thought for a moment, head tilted slightly to one side. He seemed to have brushed off the strain of the day and was now gazing at Jensen with soft eyes and a faint smile playing around his lips. Jensen had thought he would be angry or upset at Jensen’s delay in getting to him, but Jared had asked his questions, had accepted Jensen’s answers, and had read the subtext. Jensen began to relax in the warmth of Jared’s regard. He smiled faintly back.

“I think we’re going to relax, hang out some and then go to bed early. I’m pretty beat and you must be absolutely exhausted,” Jared proposed.

“Sounds cool,” Jensen replied and his smile widened.

***

They watched a DVD in the end, something with a lot of explosions and men running around shouting at each other. Every now and then Jared would laugh out loud at the preposterousness of it all, big full belly laughs, that made Jensen’s stomach flip. But through it, they managed to fall back into the comfortableness of those first few days all those weeks ago. As the evening progressed further, Jensen got sleepy and relaxed more deeply into Jared’s soft couch.

He woke a little while later, startled, and realised that he fallen against Jared while asleep. Jared’s breathing was even but he was obviously awake. He had snaked his arm around Jensen and was slowly stroking slow circles with his thumb on the top of Jensen’s shoulder. Jensen felt a light shiver shimmy around his body and caught his breath.

“Hey,” Jared said softly. “You ought to go to bed.”

Jensen snuggled further in Jared’s heat and moaned his refusal. He was comfortable and safe and Jared’s heat and strength were too alluring an antidote to his bone weariness.

“Seriously, Jen. We’ll wake up awkward and aching in the morning,”

Jensen raised his head only enough to look up at Jared.

“Only if I can stay with you?” he mumbled, the thought of the lonely guest room repellent to him.

Jared met his gaze, almost questioningly, but Jensen was too sleepy to care about anything other than getting some rest and staying close to Jared. Whatever concerns, anxieties and reservations he had were going to wait to the morning because right now he wanted a soft bed, and the reassurance and peace that being wrapped in Jared’s arms were giving him.

Jared could obviously read Jensen’s sincerity in his eyes. He untangled himself from Jensen and then got them both up from the sofa, and up the stairs. Jensen fell heavily into Jared’s bed, and was barely conscious as Jared tucked the duvet in around him. 

He was fully asleep by the time Jared slipped in beside him after a quick tidy up around the house and bedding the dogs down. Jared shuffled over and slung an arm over the unconscious man, who immediately snuggled into the curve of Jared’s body. 

Jared only had time to wonder at how perfectly Jensen fit against him, before he too slipped into sleep.

***

Jensen woke first, disorientated as he didn’t recognise the curtains at the window, and at the shock of auburn hair rather than fair lying on the pillow beside him.

He tried to freak out but Jared’s arm was laying heavily across his chest so running wasn’t an option, and the other man looked so young and peaceful in his sleep that Jensen couldn’t bear to disturb him regardless of the way his heart was pounding in his chest and his breath was short and rapid. It was a hopeless cause because the thumping heart beat and broken breaths, of course, intruded into Jared’s sleep and woke him up. Jensen was suddenly faced with hazel eyes looking straight into his own.

“It’s okay,” Jared whispered and smiled gently, instantly aware of Jensen’s panic.

“That’s easy for you to s….mmmmfffff,” Jensen began but was immediately cut off by lips, a little on the dry side, softly pressing against his own. He raised a hand to grab at Jared’s hair, and tugged slightly to pull their faces apart.

“There are hundreds of reasons why this is a bad idea,” he insisted.

Jared raised himself up onto one elbow and looked down at Jensen.

“I don’t think I care,” he answered seriously.

“But you should,” Jensen countered, his hand still trailing through the hair at Jared’s nape.

“It’s not as though we haven’t thought it through carefully,” Jared continued. “I’ve done nothing but think about all the ramifications, and I’m pretty sure all you did was think yesterday even if you hadn’t before.”

Jensen nodded slightly. It was all a moot point anyway – just a last diversionary tactic before the inevitability of Jared Padalecki. He was, in anyways, lying in a state of undress, in Jared’s bed, and in his arms, if he were to count the long arm that was resting across his chest as being ‘in his arms’. He knew exactly where things were heading, and although his head screamed for him to stop and run away, his heart, and his body were telling him something altogether different.

Jensen melted into Jared’s warmth as their mouths met again and was lost. 

***

Jared kissed with a preternatural knowledge of Jensen‘s mouth, and his hands moved around Jensen’s body with the same uncanny instinct. Instead of a first time, Jensen felt as if he was back in the arms of a long time lover who had had years to learn the map of Jensen’s body and the route that led to the most pleasure, the most sublime bliss.

Jared’s eyes, full of wonder, had followed his own hands as he smoothed them over and down creamy skin, laced with freckles. His mouth and lips soon followed, a salty tang accompanying his count of every single one. And as they went, he removed the tee and shorts they both had worn when they collapsed into bed that previous night.  
They had all day, and Jared didn’t intend leaving the bed until he had learnt every inch of Jensen’s body. The muscles were strong and the skin was like silk, and there was an almost imperceptible shake, and shiver as Jensen reacted to Jared’s exploring mouth. But there was well of vulnerability in Jensen’s eyes as he gazed down on Jared, and it was important that Jared took his time, reassured the older man, and helped to shore up the emotional cracks that the previous day had caused.

It was rare for Jensen to feel small against anyone, but Jared’s hard lines, and acres of golden skin, just enveloped him until he could see and feel nothing else. Slowly he relaxed, giving himself up completely to the butterfly touches. A velvety heat began to germinate in the very centre of him, and then unfurled throughout his long limbs. He gasped at the lightning shot of pleasure as Jared’s lips found his cock. Jared’s mouth was just a whisper, a subtle touch but it was if his whole body had been set alight.

Jared’s head shot up, eyes darkening further, as he gazed on Jensen’s obvious arousal. His want was clearly evident in his eyes but he gently blew across the tip, then grinned. Jensen pulled at his shoulders to pull him back up level with him.

“I want this. I want you,” Jensen said with conviction. Nothing separated them now except their skin.

“I love you,” Jared replied and then stilled. Jensen could only see truth in the other man’s face and nodded with acceptance.

“I know,” he answered and winked. He reached round to cup Jared’s ass  
.  
“Oh, man, really?” Jared laughed. “You’re quoting Star Wars? Now?”

Jensen hummed, and pushed up with his hips, sliding his cock alongside Jared’s. Jared’s moan in response promised all sorts of pleasure, and his fingers dug deeper into Jared’s glutes.

Their kisses turned deeper into passion. Fingers bruised, teeth marked, and hips ground against each other, as their panting breaths mingled. 

Jensen could no longer tell where he ended and Jared began.

Jared’s eyes widened as Jensen flipped him over onto his back. Stilling, they stared at each other, then without words, Jared wrapped his legs around Jensen who nearly wept as Jared smiled up at him, gentle and trusting, eyes full of love. He carefully opened Jared up with slicked up fingers, delighting in the feel of fluttering muscles and exulting in Jared’s hitches of breath as he danced around Jared’s prostate. Jared was so beautiful, skin now glowing with a sheen of sweat, eyes black with desire, lips red and wrecked from their kisses and body arching with every crook of Jensen’s fingers.

“Now,” Jared breathed, and Jensen slowly caressed his way out of Jared’s hole and lined himself up.

With hot heat, tightness and burn, Jensen finally sank into the depths of Jared’s body. His whole body felt as if it were on fire, as he gripped hard at Jared’s shoulders, and pushed in hard again. Jared’s cry, as his body swallowed Jensen down to the root of his cock, sang through every one of Jensen’s cells.

They came together – Jared’s hands on Jensen as if he could pull him in deeper still, and Jensen’s teeth in Jared’s neck. There was a wave of euphoria and loud cries of utter bliss as Jared shot a thick, milky white rope of cum between their stomachs, and Jensen came deep inside Jared’s body.

***

When he finally regained consciousness, Jensen laughed with pure joy. 

Suddenly nothing seemed to matter – not his stupid, fucked up life, Jared’s career, the press - because he was exactly where he should be. Never had anything seemed so right, so perfect, so good. He and Jared just fit together seamlessly and had since the very first moment they had met. Just for a moment he allowed himself to think that it would all turn out the way it ought – him and Jared together. Fuck the rest of the world. 

There were shadows still, at the back of his mind, but as he ran his fingers over Jared’s back – the great adorable lump was still snoring away – he found that he just couldn’t care. He would eventually, but not now. 

Not now.

Fin

 

 

Author’s Notes: All through my planning, this was where the story ended. But when I finally finished this chapter I realised that I had left so many questions unanswered. I think I came to a resolution of sorts but found I had done exactly what Jensen had done at the end – just ignored, for a few blissful moments, the troubles that lay up ahead.  
What happens when Jared comes out? What about his family? His career?  
What about Stan?  
Can I really leave Mike and Matt still closeted away?  
I also felt that I had only touched a little on Jensen’s past – just a few hints etc – what impact is that going to have on them?   
And more importantly will Jensen ever feel worthy?  
So I have started writing more – the next stage of Jensen and Jared’s journey.   
I hope you enjoyed this enough to want to carry on. But even if you don’t want to move on, then thank you for visiting and I hope the fic stands on its own.


End file.
